


the devil is raging, inside my mind

by gaythom



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: !!!, (:, Agoraphobia, Alfred being Alfred, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Animal Abuse, Biting, Blood and Violence, Boys Kissing, Choking, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Friendship, Hehehe, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smut, Tie Kink, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP TAG IS IMPORTANT, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Wayne Enterprises, and being very vague about how to build them, and some not so soft moments, as the story gets further, deep discussions, episode dialogue in different context, i am not an engineer please excuse my lack of knowledge, i hope you can still enjoy the story, i think everyone pukes at least once in this fic, i think???, in which jeremiah never left the circus, its like a normal city in a way, jerome getting wild again, just some wild jerome times ahead, kinks everywhere coming up, me making up stuff about generators, nervous first time, no actual underage but there are thoughts of it, no monsters or true villains in gotham, not an incredibly selina-friendly story but isnt hateful towards her, places have different laws, poor bruce is very confused, some soft moments between the twins, someone help him, sorry if all lowercase writing is weird for anyone, sorry lol, texting ((: thats gonna be in this story a lot, they are in this story, they eat a lot of chinese food and pizza, ties are a kink???, unhealthy coping and relationships, would just like to emphasize again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 172,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaythom/pseuds/gaythom
Summary: jeremiah always feels bitter when he remembers that he wouldn’t have met bruce if it wasn’t for jerome. he doesn’t like the thought that his twin knew him first, saw him first. bruce is beautiful, intelligent, well-manored, well-spoken, and everything him and jerome aren’t.the first time bruce was brought up, jeremiah hadn’t met him yet.





	1. the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeremiah valeska keeps himself hidden away from the world. jerome valeska wonders the streets at night taking anything he can get his hands on. and then they meet bruce wayne, and everyone’s worlds start to change. their troubled history, however, starts to catch up to them, and makes the future questionable. 
> 
> modern au

jeremiah wishes he could be anyone but himself. 

it’s not that he completely hates himself, no, not completely. he just wishes things were different and he wasn’t who he was. he supposes he sees why his therapist calls it self-loathing. 

then again, his therapist doesn’t even know half of his problems. 

the half being jerome. 

he knows he should have probably told her about jerome, considering jerome is his twin brother and is most of the reason he has a “self-loathing” issue in the first place. but his therapist knowing about jerome would mean talking about jerome, and he’s not sure he can do that. 

jeremiah remembers telling jerome he found a therapist that would come to see him. 

jerome had scoffed, and even looked slightly nervous. “what will you tell her?” he asks, voice low. “nothing concerning you, jerome.” he had said, not looking at his brother. “for our sake, i hope not.” and jeremiah knows it isn’t a threat, knows why he can’t give too much away about who he is, who they are. 

he told jerome that dr. thompkins was coming over the following saturday at four in the afternoon, but he didn’t know for how long. “gotcha.” he said, giving a loud clap. when it was three o’clock on that saturday, jeremiah anxiously sat at the unused dinner table, twisting his fingers together, leg bouncing with nervous energy. 

“just use the camera’s and the microphone thingy you had me steal and set up, and have her let herself in, okay?” jerome ruffled his neatly styled hair, and he feels a flash of agitation. when his twin starts to head out of the room towards the front door, it quickly is replaced by desperation. he knows jerome can feel it. “i think this is something you might need, miah.” jerome says it softly, and he lets out a shaky breath. he hears his twin’s footsteps head towards the door. he holds his breath. he hears the beep, signaling the door has been unlocked. he hears the beep signaling the door has been opened. he counts to four seconds he hears the beep that it has been locked and closed. 

he breathes again.

when dr. leslie thompkins does arrive, she is exactly on time and very polite. she’s a pretty brunette with red lipstick and professional clothing. 

“i’m dr. thompkins. and you are jeremiah valeska, correct?” her voice is sweet, soft, kind. so different from the woman’s voice he grew up hearing. he nods politely in response. 

when she holds out her hand, he blinks at it and feels his hand ball into a fist. 

“it’s nice to meet you, jeremiah.” he raises his hand slowly, ignoring the way it trembles, and softly takes her hand. “where can we sit?” he silently leads her to the next room, at the dinner table where he waited. the brunette sits down first, pulling a small journal and pen out of her purse. he chooses to sit opposite her. 

“the email you sent gave some detail into what’s going on,” she starts, flipping through the journal for an empty page. “about what you struggle with. so i have to ask, jeremiah, why are you seeking out a therapist?” when she finally looks at him questioningly, he lowers his gaze to the table top. 

“i admit, dr. thompkins,” he says softly, “things are a bit worse than i let on. i think it’s time i get some form of help.” she hums softly. 

“you didn’t answer the door for me,” she states. “is that the paranoia?” jeremiah hesitates. “i want you to be honest with me. that’s why i’m here, right?”

“yes.” he says it with a bit of hesitance still. jeremiah hears her pen scratching words into the paper and he’s trying not to panic. 

“and there seemed to be trigger alarms?” he gives a single nod. “do you keep the whole house heavily secured?”

“yes. no one should ever be coming in.” he says strongly. “unless i know beforehand. but,” he pauses, and glances up at her. “you already know that no one comes here.”

she nods. “yes, you mentioned the agoraphobia in your email.” dr. thompkins sets down her pen and looks around the room. “which means you probably don’t have a job.” he shakes his head no. “and yet you have power, water, groceries,” the mention of groceries makes his body go cold, not even thinking about that detail. “how do you keep things running without paying?”

“i was paid for a one time job that made it possible to buy builders. i had this house built from one of my own designs. i also created my own personal power grid so i wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else.” dr. thompkins looks impressed and starts to write in the journal again. 

“this must have been a well-paying one time job.” she says with a tilt of her head. 

“i was paid to design a building.” he says. 

it’s silent for a moment. “tell me more about your paranoia, jeremiah.” she leans forward in her chair. he swallows, moves his hands off the table to his lap. it adds distance. 

“the alarm beeps when a door is unlocked, opened, locked, and closed.” jeremiah states. “and sometimes i hear an alarm even if it doesn’t actually go off.”

“okay. what happens then?” she asks while writing things down. 

“i slowly freak out.” he says. “i’ll check the cameras, and slowly walk towards the doors, checking to make sure they are closed or locked. but the paranoia gets to me.”

“in what ways?” he swallows and keeps his eyes trained on his hands. 

“i start to hallucinate, in a sense.” it’s a hard thing to admit to someone who isn’t jerome. “i hear things that aren’t happening, see things that aren’t real. until i eventually fall into a panic attack and pass out.”

dr. thompkins is silent except for the sound of the pen writing. “what happens when you wake up?” she finally asks softly. 

“i get up off the floor, make a cup of tea, and work on an idea.” his voice feels robotic. “i move on.”

the first session ended in an hour, and dr. thompkins asks to keep seeing him. they decide to meet the last saturday of every month at exactly four in the afternoon. 

he’s not sure what the point of seeing her really is. maybe it’s so he has someone telling him it’s normal for someone with his illnesses. maybe it’s so he can be prescribed medication and trick himself into thinking he’s better. or maybe he’s trying to trick everyone else. 

“everyone else” isn’t exactly a huge group of people. he’s only recently gotten an actual job. jeremiah has dreamed of actually working at wayne enterprises ever since mr. wayne asked him to designe wayne plaza years ago. the business is all about technology and there is so much power and money there. 

and bruce wayne. 

bruce is incredible. anytime bruce is in the room, jeremiah is absolutely drawn to him. it reminds him of the way the moon orbits the earth. he never touches him, never gets too close, but he is always circling him, wandering what it might be like to just collide. 

but even the moon has a dark side, doesn’t it? 

jeremiah always feels bitter when he remembers that he wouldn’t have met bruce if it wasn’t for jerome. he doesn’t like the thought that his twin knew him first, saw him first. bruce is beautiful, intelligent, well-manored, well-spoken, and everything him and jerome aren’t. 

jeremiah knows he can’t have bruce. bruce is too good. he doesn’t deserve bruce. and bruce would never want him. 

and of course jerome knows jeremiah is infatuated with the teenager. how could he not know? the three of them have only all been in the same room together once so far, and he can still see it, feel that jeremiah is smitten with bruce wayne. 

the first time bruce was brought up, jeremiah hadn’t met him yet. 

“why would you want to work at wayne enterprises?” jerome says with disgust. his lip is curled and he keeps throwing a bouncy ball at the wall and jeremiah is annoyed. “they are a bunch of rich, snooty, stuck up, know-it-all’s. they would cut you out as soon as they find out anything about you.”

jeremiah sighs heavily. “why are you bugging me?” he asks, avoiding the question. he knows it’s the truth. jerome giggles in response. 

“geez. someone’s touchy today. how’s that little house design comin’ along, huh?” jerome bounces the ball off the floor, and it hits the wall before bouncing back to him. jeremiah blinks a couple times. 

“please stop trying to make small talk while i’m trying to work.” he snaps. “and can you please stop that?” he turns around in his desk chair and finally gives jerome the attention he craves so damn much. jerome is just rolling the purple ball in his hand, inspecting it closely. 

“well,” he draws out, as if he’s bored. “i was gonna tell you about a new friend of mine who could get you a job there, but.” jerome shrugs exaggeratedly before throwing the ball again. jeremiah just rolls his eyes. 

“all of your friends are people you steal things with and haven’t killed yet.” jeremiah darkly replies. 

“at least i have friends,” jeromes snips back, an equally dark glint in his eyes as he catches the bouncy ball. “and besides, i met him trying to steal his wallet.” jeremiah scoffs, truning back around in his desk chair. 

“why would someone befriend you after you tried to rob them?” he asks, annoyed. “i guess he thinks i’m handsome.” jerome says confidently, and jeremiah shakes his head. he really just wants to work in peace. 

“oh man, are you gonna beat yourself up when you realize who it is.” jerome says tauntingly, and jeremiah drops his pencil before turning around again. 

“jerome, i know you’re just screwing with me, okay?” he says. “i’ll never work at wayne enterprises. mr. wayne may have seen something in me, but that was years ago, and it doesn’t matter anymore. no one there would give me a second look, if they notice me at all.” and he knows he’s getting a bit too emotional about it, but he can’t help it, it’s just what jerome does. “you don’t know anyone who can actually get me a job there legally, and i really wish you wouldn’t screw with me about this one thing.” 

jerome just stares at him with his eyebrows raised. he doesn’t want him to reply, he doesn’t want jerome to tease him anymore, so he just turns back around in his chair, picks up his pencil, and hunches back over his work.

jeremiah is just waiting for jerome to speak again, for the damn bouncy ball to hit the wall obnoxiously, but it’s uncomfortably silent for a little too long. maybe jerome left. he’s okay with that. 

“he would look at you and never be able to stop.” jerome speaks so seriously it makes him freeze, and, yeah, he should have known jerome wouldn’t actually leave when he wants him to - what did he say?

“excuse me?” he asks, turning back to look at his twin confused. jerome just wheels the chair he is in up to the left side of jeremiah’s desk. he rests his elbow on the desk before setting his chin in his palm with no smile. jeremiah thinks there is something close to admiration in his eyes. 

“you’re a genius, he’s a genius. you wear stuck up clothes, he wears stuck up clothes.” jeremiah looks over at him offended. “he would probably drool over this room alone.” he continues, gesturing with his free hand. “he will be begging to know all the little ideas floating around in that head of yours.” 

now jeremiah starts to think that maybe this time jerome is telling the truth. he looks at his twin as he tilts his head and smiles. “who exactly is this supposed friend?” he asks skeptically. jerome’s smile widens and he’s almost afraid of what the answer is. 

“bruce wayne.” he drawls, and jeremiah feels his breath catch. 

“no it isn’t.” and jeremiah does not believe him, but he wants to believe him. jerome just nods and digs his free hand into his back pocket, pulling out his phone. 

“he gave me his number.” he shows the phone screen to him, and it has text messages with the name ‘brucie’ at the top. jeremiah swallows. 

“i don’t understand-how did-there’s no way-“ and he can’t really get a full sentence out because how the hell did his crazy twin get the bruce wayne’s phone number - “you tried to mug bruce wayne?” he asks increduously. jerome cackles. “well, duh! he was a rich kid in a gas station. of course i was gonna try and steal his wallet. the fucker had fast reflexes though. wasn’t exactly expecting that.” and he has to interrupt his twin or he will never get back on the important topic. 

“how did you get his number, jerome?” he insists. jerome just shrugs. “like i said,” he starts cockily, “guess he thinks i’m handsome.” while jeremiah wants to doubt it, jerome has this charisma that, if he uses it, you can’t really resist. it’s something he doesn’t have. it’s part of why he doesn’t socialize. 

“and i bet if he knew his father came to you to design wayne plaza,” his twin continues, “he’d trust his father’s judgement and want to know what else you could do.” jeremiah gets nervous at the thought of actually talking to bruce wayne. 

“how well do you actually know bruce wayne?” he asks jerome suspsiciously. his brother gets a twinkle in his eye. 

“not as well as i would like.” he replies lowly. jeremiah suspects that means something a bit darker than he was ready for. “but i annoy him with text messages every day and i know enough.” 

“how long have you been talking?” he asks. “and you know enough?” jerome moves his elbow off the desk and starts to spin around. “jerome-“ he grabs the armrests so he will stop spinning and just focus-

“i think two weeks, but i could be wrong. i know enough to know he would like you.” jerome admits nonchalantly. jeremiah blinks slowly. 

“you have been texting bruce wayne for two weeks,” he says calmly. “and you didn’t tell me?” his voice raises in volume, incredulous and very pissed. he quickly wads up a piece of paper from his desk and throws it at jerome, “what the hell, jerome?” and his twin has the nerve to look offended. 

“hey! i was making sure he wasn’t going to be a dick to you, dipshit!” jerome says angrily. “no,” he says back, “you just knew how much i admired him and thought, ‘hey, why don’t i meet him, secretly befriend him, and not tell my stupid twin brother who admires him to piss him off!’”

he stands up from his desk and walks across the room toward the doorway.

“i already sent him pictures of blueprints from off your wall.” jeremiah freezes and he thinks his heart might have stopped. he slowly turns back around. 

“you did what?” he asks slowly, fear and anger mixing. jerome stands up now and practically saunters up to him. 

“i sent bruce wayne pictures of some of your blueprints. and guess what, baby bro?” he stops when he’s a foot away. “he loved it.” and the anger starts to wash out of him, replaced by shock and confusion. 

“does he-does he know that they are my blueprints?” he manages to ask. jerome rolls his eyes. “of course he does, weirdo. you think i wanna pretend to be you for the rest of my life?” and yeah, okay, it sounds crazy. he wouldn’t exactly put it past jerome, though. 

his next thought makes him feel sick. 

“so he knows who i am now?” jerome nods at him, and jeremiah thinks he’s going to explode. 

“i told him your name, and that your a huge nerd like him, and you should meet up to be nerds together sometime.” jeremiah waits for more, but obviously jerome is done. 

“does he know we are twins? does he know i’m very different from you personality-wise? does he know anything about me? does he want to meet me?” his questions come out rushed and nervous. sometimes he forgets he is a twenty-one year old man and not a fumbling, awkward, seventeen year old kid. 

“no, no, not really, and yes.” jerome punctuates each answer with a wave of his finger, but jeremiah only really cares about the last answer being a yes. he exhales harshly, and his twin’s smile turns almost nice. 

“i really wanna kill you for this.” jeremiah whispers, making jerome laugh. he steps into his space, and instead of wrapping his hands around jerome’s neck, like her very much wants to, he wraps his arms around jerome’s shoulders, holding on tightly. he has only hugged jerome three times. this is the fourth. 

“thank you, j.” and he hates being mushy with jerome, knows that it just isn’t something jerome does, but this is different. he feels jerome’s hands gently pat him on the back. “you really have no idea what this means to me.” he says, pulling away quickly. “oh god, when does he want to meet? should i prepare for it? is it just a ‘potential friend’ kind of meet up, or a ‘potential employee’ meet up?” jerome laughs loudly at him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

“relax, bro. you don’t have to do anything. he will come here, you will talk about whatever topics he brings up, he will look at your work, and then you wait to see what happens next.” jerome has a point, so he tries to relax. 

“i’ll let him know you do wanna meet. and i’ll let you know when he wants to meet. okay?” jeremiah nods. jerome ruffles his hair, breifly reminding him of how annoying jerome can be. it doesn’t stop the affection he feels when he watches jerome happily walk out of the room.

jeremiah wonders what life would be like without jerome. 

he hopes he never has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ll try to figure out an update schedule. i have chapter two mostly done already. leave a comment if you have feedback, criticism, or just want to show support. thank you. (:


	2. the mug

jeremiah wasn’t prepared for the second mention of bruce wayne.

 

he is trying to figure out what parts he needs for his generator to make a list for jerome, but he is fidgety, anxious.

 

jerome has been gone since he woke up at six this morning. it’s three in the afternoon.

 

he knows he doesn’t have to worry, it’s just that, usually when jerome vanishes for hours, it’s at night. being a theif during the day is a lot harder. jeremiah hasn’t even given him his list. what could he be doing?

 

he just prays he isn’t in trouble.

 

jeremiah hears the beep that the front door has been unlocked, and relief floods his body. it’s quickly replaced by aggitation. when jerome does finally open is ‘office’ door, he’s smiling.

 

“where have you been?” he asks, sounding like a distressed parent.

 

“i was out and about enjoying my day.” jerome says nonchalantly. jeremiah rolls his eyes. “what have you been up to?”

 

jeremiah holds up the short list, and jerome makes a sound of understanding. “you want me to go out tonight or can it wait until tomorrow night?” and jeremiah knows this kind of conversation shouldn’t be so casual, so normal.

 

“if you can tonight, that would be great. it can wait, if not.” and jeremiah also knows he shouldn’t ask jerome to steal supplies and pieces of equipment for him, shouldn’t encourage this behavior. but he loves his work. his twin can get a lot of what he needs, and he can’t say no to that. he doesn’t ask any questions. most of the time he doesn’t want to know.

 

“oh, also, i forgot to mention, bruce said he was ready to meet you.” jerome basically skips over to jeremiah and takes the list. jeremiah’s stomach turns a little.

 

“oh, okay. um,” and he feels like a teen girl about to meet her celebrity crush. “when does he want to meet then? i need to know so i can, uh, organize and stuff. my space is a disaster.” he picks up an empty mug, and sees a dried up tea ring. he has a moment of disgust with himself.

 

jerome walks away from him, reading over the list. “oh, i left him out in the living room.” and jeremiah drops the mug, hearing the shatter echo loudly in the room before abruptly turning towards his twin.

 

“excuse me, _what_?” jeremiah’s voice is loud, too loud, and the door is open, so he probably just heard him yell, and everything is already a disaster- “you brought bruce wayne to my house,” he whisper yells, “and didn’t _warn_ me?” jerome just stares at him, before he smiles innocently. “wanted to surprise ya!” he says cheerily, and oh, jeremiah is going to deck the smile off of his stupid face.

 

“jerome, please tell me you are joking.” when his twin just keeps smiling, he groans like he is about to die, and he thinks he might be close. “oh, god, why did you do that?”

 

jerome shrugs and walks back towards him, folding the list up and putting it in his back pocket. “i wanted brucie to see you for you. this,” he gestures around the room, “is how you work. and this,” he gestures to jeremiah, “is what you look like. you don’t need to try very hard.” and jeremiah shakes his head, huffs out an incredulous laugh. “you really don’t. you’re a genius, miah. and if he doesn’t see that, if he can’t look past your disasterous workplace, and weird stiff posture, and stilted social skills, he doesn’t deserve to have you working for him.”

 

jeremiah thinks he should be offended, but jerome has never been so genuine, and he isn’t sure what to say. good thing jerome always does. “you should clean up that broken mug, though.” jeremiah looks down, and is thankful that the ceramic broke into big pieces. “actually, i’ll do that. why don’t you go greet your guest?” jerome gives a single clap, and kneels down, putting the pieces into his palm.

 

“you should at least use a broom.” he scolds, nervously moving around his twin towards a closet with a miniature broom and dust pan. jerome just scoffs.

 

“i’ll do what i want, nerd.” jerome mutters, and jeremiah has a passing thought to just hit jerome with the broom before dismissing it. “you should hold on to mugs better. then i wouldn’t even need a broom at all.” and jeremiah decides that hitting jerome sounds okay.

 

he bumps the broom roughly into the back of jerome’s head, smirking at his brothers distressed yell. it leaves a few dust bunnies in his hair. jerome grabs the broom out of his hand and smacks him in the thigh with it. he giggles around the word ow, before shoving at jerome’s head. “what’s with you and hitting my head, dork?” and then jerome’s arms are around his thighs and he pulls, and jeremiah is incredibly thankful to himself for having so many desks. he catches himself from falling backwards, before laughing out, “what’s with you and my legs, jerk?”

 

“and to think i was trying to be nice and clean up the mess you made while fangirling.” jerome says haughtily, letting jeremiah go and starting to sweep. the giggle that slips out would be embarrassing, but jerome is failing so spectacularly at sweeping that he doesn’t care. jeremiah picks the dust bunnies out of his hair, and jerome gives up trying to sweep with a frustrated noise, and uses his hand to put it all in the dust pan.

 

he shakes his head at him as jerome stands and turns around to head out the door. jeremiah turns away towards his desk, hurriedly stacking the mess of discarded drawings. he enjoys the rare moments where jerome’s presence is actually enjoyable. his twin’s loud voice makes him freeze.

 

“bruce! how long have you been standing there?” and jeremiah goes stiff, heart pounding under his sweater and he really wishes he could have dressed nicer. “i was just about to go grab ya!”

 

“i’ve been here long enough to notice that mr. valeska is not just a brother, but a twin?” bruce wayne’s voice sounds a lot deeper than he thought it would, but he can’t remember his age exactly.

 

he wonders what he looks like now that he’s older.

 

jerome laughs, saying, “oh yeah, jeremiah is my twin brother. forgot to mention that.” and jeremiah shakes his head, continuing to straighten the papers even though they don’t need it anymore.

 

“like how you ‘forgot’ to mention you invited mr. wayne over?” he says sarcastically, before turning around, keeping his eyes on the papers in his hands. jerome just laughs again, and jeremiah decides to just look up.

 

oh.

 

bruce wayne is beautiful.

 

jeremiah remembers seeing a picture of him on thomas wayne’s desk when he himself was seventeen years old, and again in the paper after mr. and mrs. wayne’s tragic deaths. bruce was a child back then.

 

he’s no longer a child. bruce is tall, and lean, and beautiful. he’s stunned for a few seconds, taking in the way he is leaning against the door frame with his hands in his front pockets. he has on a black turtle neck sweater and dark khakis, and he looks so elegant. but then bruce makes eye contact with him, and oh, jeremiah isn’t sure he can do this anymore. he wants to beg jerome to stay for the first time in his life, to not leave him alone with bruce wayne, because he is going to screw this up if he’s left to his own ‘stilted social skills’.

 

“i’m gonna go throw away the mug you broke. be right back!” and jerome squeezes past bruce, making him step away from the doorway. jerome throws a wink over his shoulder, and jeremiah wonders if he read his mind and decided to do the opposite just to be an ass.

 

“mr. valeska. i’m bruce wayne.” and bruce is stepping closer to him, his hand outstretched and he hesitates. he’s only ever touched jerome, and he shook his therapist’s hand once. but it would be rude and strange to not shake his hand. so he reaches one hand out and grips bruce’s hand. he almost forgets to say anything back.

 

“likewise. i wish the circumstances were better.” he says it almost bitterly before looking around his work space. but bruce laughs, and he feels butterflies in his stomach.

 

“i shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t tell you i was coming.” and when he looks at bruce he has a soft smile, and jeremiah almost melts. “when he said his ‘baby brother’ was a genius, i imagined someone actually younger.”

 

and jeremiah can’t stop the scoff and eyeroll, because of course that’s what jerome said. “he’s only older by 13 minutes.” bruce’s hand is slipping out of his, and he has to resist the strong urge to keep holding on. “i’m really sorry about the mess,” he turns and starts walking back towards the table in the center, setting down the stack of papers. he needs distance between them. “i’ve been in a bit of a frenzy, i guess.”

 

“it’s fine. may i ask what your working on?” bruce asks, walking to stand next to him. jeremiah loses his train of thought.

 

“um, yeah. it’s a compact electrical engine. it generates power.” he finds the blueprints he has been working on that shows the generator and all of it’s parts. bruce eyes it with wonder.

 

“fascinating,” he breathes out. “how much power?”

 

“just two could light up every building south of westward bridge.” _if i can get it to work_ , he thinks. bruce doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps looking at the blueprints.

 

“have you started building it yet?” bruce finally asks.

 

“uh, not really.” he says, strained. “i’m still waiting on the parts.”

 

bruce looks over at him, and seeing him this close has jeremiah breathless. “where do you get your parts?” bruce asks curiously. jeremiah swallows and opens his mouth to reply.

 

“imported from nunya.” jerome calls out, reentering the room. jeremiah’s head whips over to look at his twin and sighs in relief. he feels like he’s in a daze, filled with a warm, floaty feeling. jerome smiles at him, and he tries to smile back. jerome’s smile widens, and he must really look like an idiot right now.

 

“ha ha,” bruce replies sarcastically. “regardless, mr. valeska, i’d really like to see this up and running.” he sets the blueprints down again gently. jeremiah twists his fingers together.

 

“uh, please, call me jeremiah. and i would, too. but,” he pauses and looks over at jerome, who tilts his head at him. “i don’t think i’ll ever have every part i need, or the proper tools to make it happen.” he looks back at bruce to find he’s already looking at him, and it makes a slight heat rise to his cheeks.

 

“let wayne enterprises fund your projects. we will get you any parts you need in a,” he looks at jerome with a small smirk, “ _legal_ way, and any tools or material you require.” bruce smiles at him, but jeremiah just blinks.

 

“what?” he practically whispers it, and he knows he sounds like the opposite of a genius right now, but what?

 

bruce just smiles widely at him. “i want you to come work for me at wayne enterprises.” jeremiah can feel jerome move to stand closer to him and he’s grateful. “or, you can work for us from the comfort of your home. i don’t want to force you out of your comfort zone too fast.”

 

jeremiah blinks some more, his body frozen. he inhales shakily, feeling excitment but also a crushing fear.

 

and then jerome puts his arm around his shoulders, and his body melts into his twin’s side. he exhales softly, mentally thanking jerome and their twin sense.

 

“um, i’m sorry, i’m just-“ he stutters and tries not to feel too embarrassed. “you caught me off gaurd.” jeremiah can’t bring himself to look bruce in the eyes still, instead watches one of bruce’s hands move around papers, his eyes probably scanning all of his work.

 

“you can take as long as you’d like to think about my offer-“

 

“he will take it!” jerome interrupts excitedly, squeezing his shoulder. he see’s bruce’s hand freeze and can feel his gaze fall on him.

 

“yes.” he whispers confidently. jeremiah finally lifts his gaze to meet bruce’s. he looks excited, and young, and his blue eyes have a twinkle in them.

 

“great. uh-great. oh, i actually should probably get going,” he pulls up a sleeve, exposing an expensive watch. “i have a dinner meeting at six to get ready for.” bruce holds out his hand again, and jeremiah doesn’t hesitate at all this time to take it loosely in his own.

 

“we can talk more another day. and i’ll be sure to replace the mug you broke while you were, uh, what was the word you used?” bruce looks at jerome, slowly smiling. “ah! fangirling. that’s what it was.” jeremiah groans and closes his eyes, feeling a blush take over his features.

 

“no that-that’s not what happened-“ and jerome has his head thrown back, laughing like a maniac.

 

“oh, brucie, you kill me!” his twin gets out between laughs, and jeremiah shakes his head, opening his eyes to look at bruce. he’s still kind of shaking his hand, and jeremiah decides to let himself take in how it feels to hold someone else’s hand to try to ignore the embarrassment.

 

bruce slowly lets the grip fall even more loose, and he slips away. jeremiah meets his eyes again and sees so much joy he can’t stop the small smile from forming.

 

“hopefully i’ll see you soon, jeremiah.” bruce says softly before turning his attention to a giggling jerome. “and i’m sure you’ll text me in five minutes?” bruce sighs out. 

 

“got that right, pal.” he notices the way jerome’s eyes flicker over bruce and he feels a twinge in his chest.

 

“okay then. i’ll walk myself out.” bruce moves past them and to the doorway. “it was great meeting you!” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing. jeremiah stares after him, and jerome is respectfully silent.

 

he hears the beep of the front foor opening and closing again.

 

he can breathe again.

 

which also means he can punch his brother in the shoulder really hard. his twin lets out a curse before laughing.

 

“what were you thinking?” he scolds, sounding like a distressed parent all over again. “what if he showed up here and disliked everything about me? i would have hated myself for the rest of my life!”

 

jerome just rolls his eyes. “like i said,” he mumbles, shoving at jeremiah’s shoulder, “he wouldn’t have deserved you.” and with that, jerome walks out of the office, attempting to whistle knowing full well that he can’t.

 

jeremiah is in a daze.

 

after meeting bruce, thoughts of him filled his head constantly. he didn’t start properly working for him until two weeks later. jeremiah decides to work in the comfort of his home for the first week. bruce visits on that saturday.

 

it’s one o’clock, which means jerome has to be gone in two hours before dr. thompkins arrives. but then his twin excitedly answers a text and runs out of the room. he hears the beep that the door is unlocked and opened. jeremiah waits anxiously for him to come back. when he does, he is relieved to see him smiling with bruce behind him.

 

“i’ll leave you two to talk business, or whatever.” jerome walks out, keeping the door open. sometimes his brother is kind, he thinks. he would never tell jerome that out loud.

 

“afternoon, jeremiah.” bruce greets kindly. “how is the generator coming along with most of the proper parts?” bruce must be noticing that there is no generator currently in the room, so he’s quick to explain why.

 

“ah, i don’t build in here. i have a seperate area for that.” jeremiah’s voice is shaky and a bit unsure of himself. he’s not sure he should have mentioned it at all yet.

 

bruce quirks an eyebrow at him. “a seperate area?” jeremiah nods, busying himself by going through one of his desk drawers. “what all have you actually built?”

 

it’s a fair question, but jeremiah gets a bit embarrassed. he answers honestly regardless. “not much that works.” bruce walks closer and stands on the opposite side of the desk he’s at. “i just don’t always get everything necessary. it’s why i’m a bit anxious.”

 

he looks up at bruce, finally stopping his useless search for nothing, and sees the boy looking at him curiously.

 

“you’re afraid you’ll fail?” the question makes jeremiah swallow and look away, closing the drawer. “jeremiah, i want you to know that,” he pauses, steps around the desk to stand almost next to jeremiah. “even if you don’t get it exactly right the first time, or the second, or the twentieth, it won’t matter to me.” jeremiah still doesn’t look at him, because while it may not matter to bruce, it certainly matters to him.

 

“bruce, i’d like to think that, when i was seventeen years old, your father was correct in saying that i had a gift.” jeremiah says it softly, doesn’t want to startle bruce at the mention of his father.

 

“i don’t want people to think that mr. wayne was a fool for seeing something in me. i don’t want anyone to think you’re a fool either.” it’s silent for a moment before jeremiah continues. “just because i know how things work, and what is necessary to make it happen, doesn’t mean i can do it. i didn’t build wayne plaza, i designed it. that’s the difference.”

 

after he’s rambled out all of his fears, the shame starts to set in. what was he thinking? he’s not capable of working at wayne enterprises. he’s not good enough.

 

“even if you yourself can’t physically make your ideas come to life,” bruce says slowly, “i have people that can. i have engineers that can even teach you,” and panic hits him like a bucket of ice water, before bruce backtracks. “or not. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but i do want you working for me. do you understand?”

 

jeremiah takes a deep breath before nodding slowly. “good.” bruce says, taking a few steps closer. “i’m not worried about whether or not you can actually build them. i want you to be able to, sure, but i’m more interested in the things you come up with.” jeremiah turns his head to finally look at bruce and sees nothing but kindness and determination. “i believe in you, jeremiah. we’re going to do great things for gotham.” bruce looks down at the scrap drawing of a building he ended up hating and smiles. “i’ll be checking in on you every two weeks on fridays at two in the afternoon. okay?” bruce looks at him to make sure it’s okay, and of course it is, it’s not like he has somewhere else to be.

 

“i’ll, um, have to let jerome know, but that works for me.” bruce gives him a kind smile, and taps the drawing with his finger twice.

 

“you should design buildings professionally, by the way.” jeremiah only has time to blink before bruce is moving away towards the door. he stops before leaving and turns around again. “i almost forgot to ask, do you have a phone?” jeremiah shakes his head no. he’s never needed one. “i’ll bring one in next time i’m here. see you soon, jeremiah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> working on chapter three, but it will take a while since i already had the first two done and ready. i just want to get some writing out there so people will hopefully decide to read it! let me know if there are any mistakes. thank you.


	3. the all nighter

jeremiah feels different when dr. thompkins does arrive.

 

it’s the last saturday of the month, and it’s a bit disorienting that it’s already been a month since the last visit. the sessions throw it in his face that time is moving forward, but he isn’t. he knows it isn’t normal for a therapist to come to a patient’s home, but he’s grateful she made an exception for him.

 

“how is the agoraphobia been this month?” dr. thompkins asks. it’s a weird question.

 

“normal.” is his only answer.

 

“so nothing has changed?” he shakes his head. “you didn’t answer the door for me today. do you ever think you will?” he waits a few seconds before shaking his head no again. “okay. well, i’m going to be honest, jeremiah. i saw a car leaving here.” and jeremiah freezes, thinking she has finally found out about jerome. his heart starts racing and he feels a hot rush of panic. how will he even explain this?

 

“the car looked rather expensive.” she says, and relief fills his soul, thanking god it was just bruce. he is, oddly, a little easier to explain.

 

“i made an aquaintance.” her eyes light up a little, sitting up in the chair a bit.

 

“just an aquaintance?” she asks, and he can hear her trying to hide her excitement.

 

“well, um, actually, i work for him now.” she hums, urging him to continue. “it was his company i designed a building for when i was seventeen. when he discovered this, he came and offered me a job.”

 

it’s a partial lie, but he can’t afford to feel guilt. she tilts her head. “who is this aquaintance, jeremiah? how did he find you?” he swallows down any panic, and keeps a calm face.

 

“i don’t know exactly how he found me.” he almost hates how easy it is for him to lie to dr. thompkins. “his name is bruce wayne.”

 

he watches as the brunettes eyes blink in shock, eyebrows raising and jaw dropping a little before quickly closing again. “the building you designed when you were seventeen was for wayne enterprises?”

 

he’s a little shocked by the choice of question. “wayne plaza.” he answers simply. “why didn’t you ever mention that you designed such a famous building at a young age?” she asks, almost sounding incredulous. jeremiah blinks rapidly.

 

“i never thought to.” because he truly hadn’t. dr. thompkins smiles at him.

 

“that explains why it was so well-paying.” she picks up her pen. “tell me about your relationship with bruce wayne.” the term ‘relationship’ throws him off for a few seconds.

 

“bruce wayne is my employer. he is very kind and understanding of my,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. “my specific needs.”

 

she nods as she writes something down. “i’ve actually met bruce a few times. he’s a good kid, but i think he was forced to grow up too fast.” she says it with a sort of bitterness in her voice. “a seventeen year old shouldn’t be forced into running an entire company. imagine if mr. wayne had asked you to take over the company rather than design wayne plaza.” but jeremiah is caught up on the word _seventeen_ , because that means bruce is just a teenager. he hadn’t thought he was quite that young. why does it matter? he’s just his friend, his employer. it doesn’t matter.

 

“jeremiah?” dr. thompkins’ concerned voice breaks him free, quickly snapping his gaze up to meet hers. “what’s wrong?”

 

he shakes his head and swallows. “nothing. bruce is just, uh, mature for his age. a tragedy can do that to you, i suppose.” she nods sadly in response.

 

“i wouldn’t have guessed you were only twenty-one,” she says. “you act as if you are already in your thirties.” he looks down at his hands, memories rushing through his head.

 

“like i said,” he says softly, looking up at her again. “a tragedy can do that to you.”

 

when it’s five o’clock, and dr. thompkins takes her leave, he remembers that bruce mentioned bringing him a phone. is it so bruce can check up on him over texts and phone calls rather than physically showing up?

 

the thought causes a deep ache that only happens when he notices jerome staring at him with an expression he hasn’t figured out yet. it doesn’t make sense. he dismisses the ache the best he can, sitting at one of his desks. he stares at the generator blueprint. he pushes up his glasses.

 

jeremiah thinks it’s time to start building it.

 

he knows he can only put it off for so long. bruce got him every single thing he needs and it’s been a week. jeremiah also knows, however, that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop.

 

he stands up from the chair he just sat in, grabs the blueprints, and heads to his true work space.

 

jeremiah starts working, and soon things start to blend together. all of his movements are robotic, as if he’s done this a thousand times, but he hasn’t. he has no idea how long he has been working or what time it is, but he hears the familiar beeps and freezes.

 

“miah!” jerome calls out, dragging out the vowels in the nickname. jeremiah feel his body relax.

 

“building room.” he yells back, and sees his twin appear in the doorway.

 

“uh oh,” jerome mumbles. “is it time?” he nods in reply, trying to get back in his rhythym. “well i probably won’t see you much for the next couple of days then, will i?” his twin finally enters the room slowly, looking around.

 

“probably not,” he mumbles. “i need this to work.” jerome is now standing across from him with a tight smile. “if you need anything, i’ll be here somewhere.” his twin says with a circle of his finger. he nods and starts busying himself again, listening as jerome’s footsteps exit the room.

 

“you’ll get it.” jerome says confidently, before actually vanishing. jeremiah stares at the empty doorway, feeling a deep ache close to the one he felt before. only this one has a twinge of anxiety to it. at least he can recognize fear, he thinks. he walks across the room to close the door.

 

jeremiah almost loves building his ideas. the only reason he doesn’t is the frustration and stress it causes him. he thinks it has been a few hours of moving back and forth between blueprints and parts and tools. his callouses are rebuilding themselves and his brain is running, running, running.

 

jeremiah stares for a few seconds at the progress he has made. it’s taller than he thought it would be, and the circumference is bigger as well. he looks at the blueprints again, back at the engine, and realizes that he’s passed the halfway point of completing it. it confuses him.

 

a knock on the door startles him, heart jumping into his throat, and he has to stand and breathe.

 

“ya dead?” he hears his twin’s muffled voice, and sighs.

 

“no,” jerome swings open the door. “although you nearly gave me a heart attack.” he watches jerome laugh, and he starts to feel a little less like a machine.

 

“you haven’t left this room, slept, ate, or drank anything for a little too long.” jeremiah absently looks down at his stomach, starting to notice the hunger, and how dry his mouth is.

 

“how long have i been working?” he asks. “i started after dr. thompkins left, so probably around 5:30 or something.” jerome raises his eyebrows and purses his lips.

 

“dude, it’s nine in the morning.” jeremiah stares at jerome slowly taking in what he just said. “you have been clinking around in here all night. you haven’t pulled an all nighter on work in a while. and it looks like you got a lot done, too.” jeremiah soaks in the pride in his brother’s voice before snapping back to the what he first revealed.

 

“so i have been working for almost sixteen hours?” he asks incredulously. jerome nods and jeremiah closes his eyes and groans. “i really haven’t done that in a long time.”

 

“you should eat and shit and then go to bed. i’m not letting you continue until you do.” jerome insists, and he’s the one sounding like a parent this time. it’s strange.

 

jeremiah nods and moves away from his work station. when he gets close enough, jerome throws an arm over his shoulders. “so, what do you wanna eat?” jerome happily asks. “bagels? cereal? pancakes? i can make ya anything.” jeremiah can’t stop the confusion at his twin’s almost caring actions.

“um,” he mutters. “pancakes, i guess. i know you like them cause of the syrup, and the fact you shouldn’t have something that sweet for breakfast.” jerome laughs and squeezes his shoulders as they enter the kitchen.

 

“you know me so well!” he says, ruffling jeremiah’s hair before letting him go. he feels the heat rise to his cheeks again as he watches jerome open the cabinet for the pancake mix.

 

“why do you always do that?” he mumbles, brushing his hair back into place with his hand.

 

“cause i know you work way too hard to make it look nice.” jerome replies, plugging in the griddle. “not that it looked too great before i messed it up, but, ya know.” jeremiah rolls his eyes before sitting down on a stool and resting his head on the cold cement island.

 

he listens to the sound if jerome cooking and it’s strange. his twin is making him pancakes, and they are probably going to eat together.

 

“we haven’t done this in a long time.” he mutters, lifting his head up again. jerome glances over his shoulder at him and pours four circles onto the griddle. they sizzle for a few seconds. 

 

“you mean actually spend time together?” it makes jeremiah’s chest hurt a little. “yeah, i know.” they fall silent again. it gives jeremiah time to let the guilt sink in.

 

“i’m sorry.” jeremiah says quietly, the words almost getting lost despite it being almost silent in the kitchen now. “i’m sorry for always hiding, even from you sometimes.”

 

jerome picks up the spatula and flips the pancakes one at a time. “you have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m the one always gone.” jerome sets the spatula down again, but doesn’t turn around to face him. “i shouldn’t do that.”

 

“shouldn’t do what,” jeremiah starts to ask, “actually live a life outside of this house? away from me? that’s a good thing, jerome.” he can’t stop the annoyance that slips into his voice. jerome scoffs.

 

“no, i mean leaving you here alone. you think i can’t feel it?” jerome asks, turning to face him. jeremiah isn’t sure what he means. “you know what i’m talking about. i can feel your attacks, jeremiah.”

 

oh. jeremiah swallows hard, because he had genuinely thought jerome didn’t know. he opens his mouth to reply, but jerome beats him to it.

 

“what the hell is the medication even doing for you if you still have attacks when you’re alone? that’s what i want to know.” jerome sounds angry about it, and he’s not sure if it’s at him or the fact that he thinks the medication isn’t working.

 

jerome turns away from him again to watch the pancakes, and he’s thankful for a moment, because it means his twin can’t see the panic and guilt written all over his face.

 

“i start to come home as soon as i feel it. i never get here in time, though.” he hates the way jerome’s voice sounds, hates the guilt, because why should he feel guilty? he picks up the spatula and slides two pancakes onto a plate, and the other two on another.

 

“it’s not your fault, jerome.” jeremiah says quietly. “i didn’t say anything about them because i _am_ doing better, i - i _am_ , i _know_ i am.” his words come out rushed, desperate, and he can feel the familiar panic in his chest. “i’m doing better, right? am i?”

 

jerome turns around, probably sensing the panic, because apparently he always does. “hey, no, stop,” he walks over to him, forgetting the pancakes, and stops next to him. jeremiah’s hand twitches on the counter. “you are getting better. i wasn’t-i wasn’t trying to say you weren’t getting better,” jeremiah can see jerome duck his head in his peripheral. he has to stop his hand again from reaching out. he misses finding physical comfort in his twin.

 

but they were kids then.

 

“i just hate that i’m the reason you have these attacks. you only have them when i leave. so yes, jeremiah, i hate leaving you here alone. i know what that does to you, even if you won’t say anything.” jerome says, obviously irritated, but jeremiah isn’t sure who at.

 

“do you know how many times i’ve come home in a hurry just to find you passed out on the floor?” and jerome’s quiet words almost break jeremiah. he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling ashamed, embarrassed, weak. “every single time i find you like that, i hate myself a little more for failing you. but you know what i do?” jeremiah doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes closed.

 

“i pick you up, and i carry you to your bed, and then i go put the house back together.” jerome’s voice is strong, but he knows this isn’t easy for him, knows jerome hates talking about jeremiah’s problems. “because i know that i can never really put you back together.”

 

and that _hurts_. it hurts something deep in jeremiah, and it hurts worse when it really hits him that he’s hurting jerome just as much as he is hurting himself.

 

“but you _are_ doing better, miah, and that’s what’s important.” jerome says it quietly. “you have a job, a job at wayne fucking enterprises,” he looks at jerome to see a small smile on his face. he always finds a way to keep smiling. “and you have a friend that isn’t me. you really are doing better, okay?”

 

they haven’t had a real conversation like this since they were maybe fifteen years old, and jeremiah thinks maybe they should have had this conversation a long time ago. he should have told jerome what was going on. he should still tell jerome what’s going on.

 

“i, um,” and shit, this is a lot harder than he wants it to be. “i have something to tell you.” and jeremiah knows he can’t go back now, he has to tell jerome. he looks down at the island, taking in the little details in the concrete.

 

“what is it?” jerome calmly asks. jeremiah knows it’s to make him feel safe. it isn’t working very well.

 

he keeps opening his mouth, but he can’t get the words to come out. the truth is stuck in his throat. “you can tell me anything. i mean that.” jerome says, voice low, as if someone else might hear them.

jeremiah takes a deep breath and twists his fingers together on the island.

 

“i’m not taking my medication.” jeremiah whispers it, partially hoping jerome won’t hear it, and he doesn’t want to hear the words himself.

 

jerome doesn’t say anything, and jeremiah doesn’t either, doesn’t dare to look at him. he swallows hard.

 

“how long have you not been taking your medication?” jerome finallys asks, voice monotonous. it scares jeremiah.

 

“just this month.” he answers honestly, voice small. jerome sighs, and rubs a hand over his face.

 

“i came home seven times to you on the floor just this month.” it shocks jeremiah to hear. he hadn’t known it was that often. he wakes up in bed, but always assumed he got himself there. “and that _isn’t_ counting the times i’ve come home as fast as i could just to find you working away like nothing happened.”

 

jeremiah takes in a shaky breath. jerome almost sounds hurt. why wouldn’t he be?

 

“how long have you been on it? why did you stop taking it? does dr. thompkins know that you stopped?” jerome bombards him with questions that he really doesn’t want to answer.

 

“i started taking them four months ago,” he starts to answer. “after seeing dr. thompkins for two months, technically the second visit, she decided i needed them.”

 

“you do, jeremiah. they help the paranoia.” jerome interrupts, and his tone of voice stings.

 

“i know, i know i need them, but i don’t like them. i don’t like the way the make me feel-“

 

“but you _need_ them, jeremiah!” jerome interrupts again, loudly, with force, and it causes his body to involuntarily shrink in on itself.

 

“i couldn’t feel anything!” he raises his voice slightly to match jerome’s. “i just felt like-like a corpse. i might as well have been one.” his heart is racing, and it’s silent for a few seconds. “don’t tell me you didn’t see it.”

 

jerome sighs again, less angrily. “i did,” he admits. “but i thought it was temporary, especially when you started to go back to your usual self. but you just stopped taking your medication.” jeremiah ducks his head at the disappointment in his twin’s voice. “you know you can’t do that, right? you realize how dangerous it is?” jeremiah doesn’t say anything. he just nods.

 

“you have to tell dr. thompkins.” jerome says firmly. jeremiah feels a flash of fear.

 

“i just saw her yesterday, i won’t see her until the end of next month-“

 

“then send her a damn email, jeremiah!” and jerome’s voice is loud again, angry, and he feels the air rush out of him as his body shrinks even more and flinches away from jerome a little. it’s enough for jerome to notice, though.

 

“shit,” his twin mutters. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be yelling at you. it’s just,” jerome pauses, so jeremiah blinks open his eyes again and looks at his hands that are now on his lap. “you can’t do this to yourself, miah. you can’t. you have to tell dr. thompkins. maybe get started on a new medication that actually makes you feel okay.”

 

jeremiah tries to control his breathing, his heartbeat. they are rapid and painful. he’s reminded of when they were fifteen again, of jeremiah crawling closer to jerome after a nightmare, and pressing his ear to his twin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. he would breathe with him, make his heart match his twin’s, until eventually he fell back asleep.

 

jeremiah wishes he could do that still.

 

he’s not sure why they grew distant, in the physical sense. maybe that just happens the older people get. jeremiah decides he hates that.

 

“you have to tell me things, or i can’t help you.” jerome says softly, quietly, sadly. “you have to tell me what you need.” and damn it, jeremiah knows what he needs but he doesn’t know how to ask. because how do you ask a twenty-one year old man to hug you every time you’re sad, or hold you’re hand every time you’re afraid? it’s worse when he remembers he is also a twenty-one year old man, and shouldn’t be asking anyone for that. he isn’t a child anymore.

 

“miah, look at me. please.” but jeremiah can’t, because jerome will see it in his eyes, jerome will know what he wants from him. “just-if it’s something i need to do differently to help you, then please tell me.” jerome sounds sad still, and he really doesn’t like it.

 

“i don’t know.” is all jeremiah says, and he knows it’s a lie, and he knows jerome knows it’s a lie, too.

 

“why do you even try lying to me? you know i know when you’re lying to me.” jerome says tiredly. “you know i will do anything for you. i know you know that, after everything.” and jeremiah hates being reminded of their past, of that night, but jerome is right. he does know jerome will do whatever he needs him to do. it’s why he hates asking him for anything.

 

“i know.” his voice breaks, and he bites at his lower lip. he feels pathetic.

 

“then talk to me.” jerome sets his right hand on the island, leaning against it, and jeremiah just stares at it. he wants to touch him. it makes him realize he rarely initiates contact. maybe that’s why they became distant. jeremiah stopped reaching out. he became afraid.

 

maybe he needs to suck it up, just this one time.

 

he doesn’t look up at jerome. he just lifts his left hand shakily and touches his twin’s fingers with his own. jerome slowly turns over his hand, inviting jeremiah to run his fingers over his calloused palm, and over the length of his fingers. his heart is still racing, and he feels a fluttering in his stomach. it reminds him of seeing bruce for the first time. then jerome is turning his hand back over, and gently wraps his hand around the top of jeremiah’s, holding it, and he hadn’t really expected that. he isn’t complaining, though.

 

he takes in an uncertain breath. he doesn’t know what to do now.

 

“i thought you disliked being touched.” jerome mumbles, giving his hand a squeeze. jeremiah shakes his head. jerome says nothing, and jeremiah basks in being touched in a comforting way for more than twenty seconds.

 

and then jerome’s left hand gently settles on jeremiah’s head, and fingers run through his hair, and he feels like he’s going to shatter any second. a warmth erupts in his stomach, and his right hand is reaching outwards before he can process it.

 

he feels jerome’s t-shirt, and he grips it tightly in his hand. jerome just steps closer and gently guides his head towards his chest. jeremiah understands.

 

he presses his ear where he knows his twin’s heartbeat is. he listens for the first time in years. jerome is gently running his fingers through his hair in a sort of rhythym, and jeremiah feels everything start to slow down. he can feel their heartbeats in their hands, which is weird, but it’s also grounding.

 

jerome is real, and jerome is here.

 

“thank you,” he mumbles, turning so his forehead rests in the crook of jerome’s neck. jeremiah feels him rest his cheek on top of his head, gripping his hair a little tighter.

 

“let’s save the pancakes for later,” jerome says. “you need to sleep. c’mon.” jerome pulls away a little, but keeps a hold of his hand. “plus, i asked bruce to hang out, and you and i both know what sleep deprivation does to you.” he pulls jeremiahup out of the stool and starts walking him out of the kitchen.

 

“bruce is coming over?” he asks, trying to decide if he’s excited or afraid. jerome laughs quietly.

 

“yes, he is. so if you wake up to the door beeping, it’s just bruce.” jerome stops them at his closed bedroom door. he mumbles out an _okay_ as jerome opens his door and walks with him to his bed in the farthest corner.

 

“it’s so dark in here.” jerome grumbles. “you need a window. sunshine would make you feel better.” jeremiah shakes his head.

 

“someone could break in.” he responds as he sits on the edge of his bed. “my bed is here so no one can sneak up on me. my dresser is on the wall so when the door opens, it’s behind it, and i can hide on the other side. they wouldn’t immediantly see me there. they would think the room is empty. i even have a trapdoor.” he’s mumbling now, and his head feels heavy, so he lays down.

 

“yeah, i know all about your little emergency plan and trapdoor.” jerome says. jeremiah can hear the amusement in his voice. “i’ll let ya sleep.” his glasses are being removed, and he feels the blanket being tugged and lifted over him. he feels a hand brush back his hair.

 

he would do anything for jerome. he wonders if his twin knows that. jerome would do anything for him. jerome has already proved that in a horrific way. maybe one day he can prove it, too.

 

it’s the last thought he has as the door quietly shuts and he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, let me know if there are mistakes, or if you liked a certain part, or if you didn’t like a certain part. whatever floats your boat. thank you for reading!
> 
> next chapter is jerome pov.


	4. the couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i listened to bellyache by billie elish on repeat while writing this chapter. so if you wanna jam like me while reading, that’s my suggestion for this chapter. enjoy!

jerome leans against the closed door, feeling exhausted despite the five hours of sleep he just woke up from. he sighs heavily, leaving jeremiah to sleep. his heart is slow but his mind is going crazy.

 

what was jeremiah thinking? why didn’t he say what was going on? is jeremiah hiding anything else from him? he briefly considers snooping through his shit, but he knows jeremiah would notice.

 

he feels almost guilty that he assumed jeremiah didn’t want to be touched. when he reached out to his hand, as if he was afraid, jerome understood what he was doing wrong. jeremiah had grown used to being comforted, being close, and jerome had basically cut him off.

 

jerome isn’t even sure why exactly he assumed what he did. his twin would sometimes flinch when jerome touched him without warning, so he backed off. was he wrong? was he just surprising him rather than scaring him, or making him uncomfortable?

 

jerome sits down on their couch, something so rarely used anymore, and pulls out his phone. he wonders if maybe he should tell bruce not to come over today, but part of him doesn’t want bruce to worry, or jeremiah to feel bad when he wakes up.

 

part of him also just wants to see bruce.

 

jerome does a lot of bad things. he likes to steal shit he doesn’t really need, but is pretty sure he wants more than they do, and he flirts with every person who looks at him the right way. jerome knows how to get what he wants, and he usually suceeds.

 

but bruce wayne just has to screw things up, doesn’t he?

 

he doesn’t even get to steal from bruce, the kid just pays for everything. and then it’s like a slap to the face when he has to use the word kid.

 

because he is a kid.

 

jerome has always been cautious when it comes to who he flirts with, and who he _flirts_ with. he has morals, even if they are a little iffy.

 

bruce makes him want to throw morals out the damn window and never look back.

 

the kid screams twink, but he also screams rough, and jerome couldn’t think of anything more perfect. he’s pretty, and defiant, and holds so much power, and jerome is _dying_ to take it away from him.

 

bruce, however, puts out a vibe of you’re allowed to look, but you cannot touch. and honestly, that’s for the best, considering he’s seventeen years old, a minor, underage. if jerome was caught so much as looking at bruce wayne, the billionaire brat, the wrong way in public, he’d be locked away.

 

so jerome tries to keep him around in private. not soley to take advantage, or to make a move where no one will know. he wants him alone to tease and marvel as much as he pleases. bruce doesn’t seem to mind his risky comments. hell, the kid probably thinks jerome is screwing with him for fun. deep down, though, jerome means every word.

 

he sends bruce a simple text, asking if he’s still coming over this afternoon, and bruce quickly replies a just as simple yes. he hesitates, before typing out another text.

 

-jeremiah isnt doing great, probably wont see him much.-

 

he hits send and sits his phone down next to him. he closes his eyes and lets himself remember how it felt to have jeremiah close to him again. to run his fingers through his twin’s hair, to hold his hand, to share a heartbeat for a little while again.

 

his phone dings, pulling him away from the memory.

 

-is he okay?-

 

jerome decides not to overshare about what is going on for jeremiah’s sake.

 

-just sleeping, he will be okay-

 

he only told bruce that jeremiah struggles with agoraphobia, and doesn’t leave the house. it isn’t his shit to tell. if jeremiah wants bruce to know anything else, he will tell him himself. his phone dings again.

 

-alright. be there at 12.-

 

jerome smiles, and then realizes he isn’t dressed. should he shower? probably. he’s got two hours.

 

after he’s showered and gotten dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, it’s a bit past eleven o’clock. he walks out of his room down the hallway and stops at jeremiah’s door. maybe he should check on him.

 

he slowly and quietly cracks the door open and peeks his head in. his twin hasn’t moved an inch in the past hour and a half, but he doesn’t look peaceful. he looks afraid, even while asleep.

 

jerome opens the door a little more and moves toward the bed, crouching down next to it. he raises his hand but hesitates, isn’t sure if it will wake him, or scare him. he does it anyway, remembering how much it calmed him earlier. jerome gently brushes his fingers through his twin’s bright orange hair and watches as he subconciously leans into it. jerome gives a small smile before standing back up, and leaving jeremiah to sleep.

 

he closes jeremiah’s door and heads to the kitchen. “shit, i left the pancakes on the counter.” he curses to himself, before quickly moving to put the two plates in the fridge. he’s not really sure if that’s how you save pancakes, but it will do.

 

jerome starts a slow clean up, putting away the griddle cord in a bottom cabinet, and the non-stick spray in a top one. he puts the spatula and griddle in the sink, deciding to wash them later, and leans against the island.

 

sometimes he has to take a moment and appreciate what his brother is capable of. this kitchen was designed by jeremiah, the living room, their bedrooms, all three office spaces, the bathrooms. every inch of this place came from jeremiah’s brain. there are still so many secrets in this building he hasn’t stumbled on. 

 

jeremiah is so very smart, and no one even knows. jerome can’t help the selfish, possessive thoughts that no one out there deserves to have jeremiah, to see what he’s capable of, because they would just use him, hurt him, take advantage of his kindness.

 

bruce, again, screws things up.

 

after his failed attempt to mug the kid, resulting in a bloody nose, bruce apparently didn’t mind that jerome had laughed his ass off. they had a conversation, and jerome discovered who this pretty rich ninja kid was, and knew he had to test him.

 

jerome knew, of course, that jeremiah had always pretty much worshipped wayne enterprises after the owner picked him to design a fancy building for him. jeremiah had gotten a taste of what it’s like working for a huge company, to be a part of something important, after being nothing for so many years.

 

it was hard when the struggle of his twin not leaving the house came up, despite the older man’s requests to do so, but they were overall understanding. they discussed things through email, and sent pictures back and forth. jerome isn’t sure what started the agoraphobia, but he thinks it’s really set jeremiah back.

 

but when jeremiah’s secret idol sat with him and never even mentioned he was a billionaire, jerome assumed that the kid assumed he had no idea who he was. bruce never explained why he was so good at kicking people’s asses either, but he figured that would be a conversation for another day.

 

he also figured bruce was probably okay to talk to about jeremiah, even if it was very vague. he simply mentioned he had a little brother at home who was pretty much a genius. bruce asked him in what way was he a genius, and he proceeded to tell him he was a architectual designer, and loved mazes, and loved designing machinery and technology, and other nerdy shit.

 

jerome could see the pure curiousity and interest in bruce’s eyes, and so he casually threw in that they would probably get along, and bruce had agreed. when they parted ways from that shady gas station, the kid was all jerome could think about. bruce had put his number in jerome’s phone, and so he took full advantage.

 

he texted bruce every day, as often as he could. he knew he was being annoying, but he figured bruce probably liked the attention, because he always responded fairly quickly. bruce had asked again about jeremiah, about what style of buildings he drew, and if his mazes were impressively hard. since jerome doesn’t really have thorough answers, he decides to send pictures of a few blueprints that are hanging on one of the office walls.

 

bruce was intrigued, to say the least.

 

one thing led to another, and they had finally met a few weeks later, and jerome could see jeremiah practically fall in love with bruce.

 

when bruce had said jeremiah was brilliant, his twin was _gone_ , and jerome knew he made the right choice. for once, he is doing something genuinely good.

 

it would be perfect if bruce wasn’t so young. he knows jeremiah would never go near someone that much younger than him, would feel like a creep, and while jerome partially feels the same way, he’s not sure he would say no if bruce made a move.

 

he realizes how bad that sounds, but _damn_ , the kid does shit to him that no one else has. bruce catches his eye, makes him feel hot, makes his hands itch to touch. usually he sees these things in other people when they look at him.

 

jerome’s phone dings from his back pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts once again. the text says that bruce is on his way, and he thinks that maybe he should wake jeremiah up for a few minutes so the alarms don’t freak him out. his twin probably won’t remember that bruce is coming.

 

he walks back to jeremiah’s room and quietly opens the door again. his twin still hasn’t moved, and he looks just as unpeaceful as before. jerome sits gently on the edge of the bed, and jeremiah shifts at the disturbance.

 

“hey,” he says, trying not to be too loud. “bruce is gonna be here any minute, so the alarms are gonna go off.” jeremiah blinks open his eyes, makes a noise of affirmation, and closes them again. jerome can’t help the huff of laughter.

 

“shouldn’t have stayed up all night,” he jokes quietly. “now you’re gonna have to wait another two weeks to see bruce.” jeremiah scoffs in response.

 

“you’ll bring him over again.” his twin mutters, rolling over so his face is buried in his pillow. he is probably right. it’s silent for a bit, and jerome decides to lay down. he swings his feet up and plops down heavily next to his twin with his arms up behind his head. jeremiah groans.

 

“why did you have to wake me? you already told me he was coming.” he turns his head away from the pillow to look at jerome.

 

“i didn’t want you to wake up to the alarms going off in case you forgot,” jerome says simply.

 

“oh,” jeremiah says it weirdly, so jerome looks at him, and is unsettled by how distressed his twin looks.

 

“what is it?” jerome asks, making jeremiah look at him again. he shakes his head.

 

“nothing,” he rushes to say, making jerome furrow his eyebrows. “sorry, it’s just, it makes sense. no one ever comes over, obviously, so i never really thought about it. i’m sorry.”

 

jerome frowns. “it’s no big deal, miah. what are you ever sorry for?” jeremiah just shakes his head again.

 

“i just make it hard for you to have friends, i guess,” he says, and before jerome can reply, his phone dings. he sighs before pulling it out.

 

“gonna go let bruce in,” he says, sitting up. “do you wanna come say hi before passing out?” jeremiah groans, but sits up as well. jerome laughs. “you’d do anything for brucie, wouldn’t you?” he says it teasingly, knowingly, and watches jeremiah’s cheeks turn pink.

 

“no,” his twin says strongly. “i would do anything for you, and only what i’m capable of for bruce. there’s a difference.” he finishes in a softer tone. jerome tilts his head. “now shut up and hand me my glasses.” and ah yes, there’s the usual bitchiness. he lets out a cackle and reaches for the glasses on the nightstand.

 

his phone starts playing his ringtone, and realizes that he never actually answered bruce and he is just waiting outside. “whoops,” he says before answering the call. “hey, my bad!” bruce laughs a little.

 

“just please come answer the door,” bruce says pleadingly. “standing alone in the middle of nowhere is a bit terrifying.” jerome laughs and hangs up on him, standing up from the bed. he hands over jeremiah’s glasses and smirks at the dischevelled state of his twin’s hair. jerome decides not to say anything about it, and does a slow jog through the house to the front door.

 

he enters the six digit passcode and hears the beep. he opens the heavy door and is greeted by a smiling bruce. the kid is wearing all black, like usual, the turtleneck looking as ridiculous as ever.

 

“hello again, bruce,” he steps aside to let him in, knowing he shouldn’t leave the door open too long. “long time, no see.”

 

“yes,” bruce says, brushing past jerome closely. “it’s been, what, less than 24 hours since i was last here?” jerome closes the door, and enters the passcode to lock it, making sure bruce doesn’t see.

 

“well, you’re only the second person to step foot in this house that isn’t me or miah, so it’s pretty weird.” jerome turns back and makes his way to the kitchen. bruce laughs and follows him.

 

“i’m actually shocked by that,” bruce says, leaning up against the island. jerome opens the fridge.

 

“that you’re only the second person to be here?” he asks, pulling out two cans of dr. pepper, before grabbing a third, just in case.

 

“no, that i’m not the first.” he hands the can to bruce and scoffs.

 

“i sincerely hope you aren’t making fun of me,” jeremiah’s sleepy voice catches his attention. his twin enters the kitchen, and jerome almost throws the dr. pepper at him, but changes his mind. he certainly wouldn’t catch it, and jeremiah would proceed to kill him.

 

jeremiah takes it as bruce shakes his head. “no, of course not. i think it actually says more about jerome’s social life.” jeremiah snickers, and they all open the cans noisely.

 

“excuse me?” watching bruce take a sip.

 

“well, you _do_ leave the house, and you still don’t have friends, so,” and jeremiah actually laughs this time, and bruce looks so proud of himself, the little shit. he loudly sips at his soda.

 

“i have friends,” he starts defensively. “they just aren’t the kind of friends who should know where you live.” jeremiah hums in agreement.

 

“yeah, no, i don’t want his friends anywhere near here.” jeremiah sets down the dr. pepper on the island and moves around jerome to get in the fridge.

 

“i don’t really have friends either, so i really don’t have room to talk.” bruce says with a shrug. jerome scoffs. “what? it’s true.”

 

“yeah, okay, mr. billionaire playboy,” jerome says dramatically, making bruce laugh. jerome turns his attention back to jeremiah when the fridge closes.

 

“of course you’re gonna eat those now,” he says, watching his brother stick his plate of pancakes in the microwave.

 

“i’m starving, leave me alone.” jeremiah mumbles, running a hand tiredly through his hair. jerome shakes his head while looking at bruce, who just smiles and tilts his head.

 

“the dork stayed up the entire night working,” he explains to bruce, who nods in understanding. “he hasn’t eaten in, what was it again?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. he wants jeremiah to say it.

 

“eighteen hours,” jeremiah sighs out, before the microwave beeps. bruce gives an incredulous what while his twin busies himself with his steaming pancakes. jerome shakes his head again.

 

“yep. when he gets started, it’s hard to get him to stop.” jerome walks up to his twin and quickly rips off a piece of pancake. jeremiah smacks at his hand.

 

“what exactly were you working on?” bruce asks, sounding kind of amazed. he should be amazed, jerome thinks. he hands half of the pancake piece he stole to bruce.

 

“the gigantic thingy you liked.” jerome answers, shoving the pancake in his mouth. bruce looks confused.

 

“gigantic?” is all bruce asks, looking at jeremiah. his twin nods slowly.

 

“it’s a lot bigger than i anticipated,” he answers, picking up his plate and sitting at the island. jerome leans his elbows on the island directly across from him and bruce moves around to sit in the stool next to jeremiah. jerome smiles when bruce finally eats the piece of pancake.

 

“wait, how much of it do you have built?” he asks around the pancake, turning his body a bit to face jeremiah. jeremiah cuts a traingle out of a pancake with his fork.

 

“well, i’ve passed the halfway point.” jeremiah says it like he is embarrassed, and jerome doesn’t understand why.

 

“dude, you got over half of that thing put together in one night?” jerome chimes in. jeremiah just looks at him, and shoves the pancake in his mouth.

 

“that’s actually pretty incredible, jeremiah.” bruce praises, and jerome marvels at how embarrassed his twin is. “i don’t think i’ve ever had anyone work that dedicatedly on something before.”

 

“he probably would have finished it without stopping if i hadn’t of intervened.” jerome says, taking another noisey sip of dr. pepper.

 

“yeah, well,” jeremiah starts to say defensively. “i’m gonna eat this, go get a few hours of sleep, and finish it off. no stopping this time.”

 

“i could stop by this friday instead of waiting a whole ‘nother week,” bruce suggests as jeremiah shoves more pancake in his mouth. “i want to see this generator working as soon as you’re able to show me.”

 

jeremiah nods in answer, making jerome smile. the two start discussing the thing in more detail, but jerome tunes it out. instead he soaks in the sight of his twin socializing with another person.

 

he glances down in distaste at the fact that jeremiah is eating his pancakes plain, because who the fuck does that? his hair is still a bit of a disaster, making jerome smile again, before shaking his head at the tie loosely hanging around his neck. did he seriously sleep with a tie on? he could have suffocated. what a way to go, he thinks. at least the top two buttons are undone.

 

when jeremiah’s brain is fully awake and can register the state he is in, he’s going to be so embarrassed. jerome turns his attention to bruce, who is listening intently to his twin. he looks well put together, like always. he wonders why the kid wears exclusively black turtlenecks. maybe he should ask later. he also wonders if bruce’s hair is naturally that wavy, and if it’s soft. he wonders what sound bruce would make if he pulled on it.

 

he takes a sip of his pop, deciding he probably shouldn’t be thinking those things right now. jeremiah is looking at him, and he realizes his twin probably said something to him.

 

“oh, sorry, i wasn’t listening, my ears just naturally shut down when you talk.” he says, his free hand gesturing weirdly. bruce laughs and jeremiah rolls his eyes.

 

“i asked if we have anything to eat later, and if so, is bruce staying?” jeremiah asks with sass in his tone. jerome raises his eyebrows, giving a slow blink.

 

“i don’t fucking know, but he can stay. i can always go get pizza, or whatever.” they both look at bruce, and the kid nods.

 

“sounds like a plan to me.” he replies. jeremiah has finished his plain, disgusting pancakes, and gets up to set his plate in the sink with the griddle.

 

“goodnight, sweetheart. i hope you dream of screwdrivers and metal.” jeremiah scoffs as he brushes past jerome.

 

“don’t tell me what to dream about.” is all his brother says as he leaves the kitchen. he hears the bedroom door shut and shakes his head.

 

“he’s such a bitch when he’s tired.” he says to bruce, who laughs in response. “you’re gonna get to witness me try to wake him up later.”

 

“oh yeah?” bruce asks, voice full of humor. “what’s that like?”

 

“there’s usually at least two real attempts on my life, but he also becomes a fucking octopus.” bruce laughs again, probably imagining jeremiah valeska being physically clingy. “not to mention he loses all ability to talk sophisticated. no big words, just whatever comes out. he doesn’t even know what he’s saying half the time.”

 

“that sounds so unlike jeremiah,” bruce says. “he’s always so well put together.”

 

“wait until you spend enough time around him.” jerome picks up his dr. pepper and starts to head out of the kitchen. he’d much rather be sitting on the couch right now. bruce takes the hint and follows him out to the living room. they sit down on opposite ends of the double cushioned couch.

 

“miah acts like such a machine sometimes, i think even he forgets he’s human.” he sets his pop down on the small coffee table, and bruce does the same.

 

“is it just his personality, or is there a reason he acts cold and professional? bruce asks, seeming hesitant, but too interested not to ask.

 

jerome takes a moment to think about an answer. “even when we were young, he talked with words a kid wouldn’t normally use. and he would always be taking shit apart and putting it back together so he could see what made it work.” he looks over at bruce, who nods at him to continue.

 

“we didn’t grow up here. we had a really unusual childhood, and we both have our different ways of coping, i guess. jeremiah always preferred to be alone, but with me there. it started with an old maze book he found, and then he became obsessed with them. he started making his own because the books i would steal for him weren’t hard enough.

 

“he’s intelligent, and it sometimes makes him come off as, like you said, cold and professional. but he’s actually a dork, which you’ve seen a bit of.”

 

bruce smiles. “like when i first came here. i saw him hit you in the head with a broom, and giggle, and mess around with you.” jerome smiles at the memory. “and then when he realized i was there, it was like a light switch was clicked off. and i understood, of course. most people aren’t fully comfortable being themselves around someone they don’t know.” jerome nods.

 

“that’s an understatement with jeremiah.” jerome starts. “it’s hard to even get him comfortable with me. what you walked in on doesn’t really happen that often.”

 

“really?” bruce sounds surprised. jerome just nods. “i would have thought he was comfortable with you, at least.”

 

jerome shrugs. “he’s still trying to find a way to cope with shit. jeremiah thinks he has to act the way he does, or he’s weak. it doesn’t make sense to me. which then leads to the problem of bottling shit up until it overflows. which leads to an explosion of emotions that jeremiah doesn’t know what to do with.”

 

“so,” bruce starts to say. “the problem is that he doesn’t know how to properly feel the things he feels, so he just acts like he doesn’t feel?” and okay, bruce figured that out pretty quickly.

 

“yeah,” he confirms. “and i just make everything a fucking joke.” he leans forward to take a drink.

 

“you did laugh when i punched you in the nose.” and that makes jerome laugh.

 

“exactly! i just really don’t give a shit. and i really wasn’t expecting you to punch me.” bruce looks appalled.

 

“you tried to mug me!” jerome shrugs. “of course i’m going to defend myself, i’m not a hopeless idiot.”

 

“see, i was hoping you were.” he grumbles. bruce laughs, his blue eyes alight with amusement. jerome runs his tongue along his lips, tasting the dr. pepper there. he realizes that he would be able to taste it on bruce’s lips, too. the corner of his mouth twitches up.

 

it could be so easy.

 

“so, brucie,” jerome begins, in a loud voice. “got a cute, clingy girlfriend that you beat people up for?” bruce scoffs.

 

“no, not exactly.” jerome quirks an eyebrow. “she’s not my girlfriend, she’s the opposite of clingy, and she beats people up for herself.”

 

“but she is cute?” jerome teases, making bruce smile.

 

“yeah, i guess so. i don’t think we will ever actually be a thing. we tried that once, and it was,” he pauses, searching for a word. “difficult.”

 

jerome cackles. “teen relationships tend to be difficult, kid.” bruce nods with eyes wide. “what’s her name? is she rich, too?”

 

“no, she’s not rich. and her name is selina.” jerome ooo’s as he swings his feet up onto bruce’s lap.

 

“selina, huh?” jerome asks lowly. bruce nods.

 

“she lives on the streets and steals things. you two would probably get along, but also fight constantly.” jerome hums and purses his lips.

 

“is she your age?” bruce nods. “and you like her?” bruce hesitates, and then shrugs. “what do you mean,” jerome asks, imitating his shrug.

 

“she’s great, but she’s difficult. we fight all the time, and she really only comes around when she needs money help, or a place to stay. it’s not that i mind, i’m always happy to help. but i think i care about her more than she cares about me, i guess.” bruce finishes with a shrug, and jerome nods.

 

“makes sense.” he pauses. “alright, how come you know how to kick ass?” bruce smiles and rests his hands on jerome’s shins. he smirks at the contact.

 

“i train to fight because, honestly, this is gotham. there are people like you here.” jerome puts a hand over his heart with a big smile.

 

“me? what on earth do you mean?” it makes bruce laugh. he’s pretty sure bruce is the only person who laughs at his jokes.

 

“in all seriousness, i do have a past with muggers.” bruce looks down at his hands, pulling a little at jerome’s jeans with his thumb and index finger. he feels like an asshole. he hadn’t even thought about bruce’s parents.

 

“well, you, me, and jeremiah are all orphan boys, so that’s something we all have in common.” he tries to make light of the situation, and he knows it isn’t a very light thing to throw out there, but he doesn’t really want to get too serious.

 

bruce looks at him with furrowed brows. “i didn’t know that.” jerome rolls his eyes.

 

“cause i didn’t tell ya.” he gives a closed lipped smile, hoping the topic passes. bruce just gives a small smile back.

 

“you said you didn’t grow up in gotham,” bruce says. “when did you come here?”

 

jerome tilts his head to look at the ceiling. how old were they when they ended up in gotham? “i think we were, like, fourteen?”

 

“did you go to school?” bruce asks, probably wondering if they went to the same school.

 

“yeah, but not to your rich boy school.” he says it teasingly, and bruce rolls his eyes with a huff. “we went to this place called st. ignatius.”

 

bruce just makes a face that says ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about’.

 

“it was for ‘gifted’ kids, or something.” bruce squints at him. “hey, i actually have a brain and know how to use it.”

 

“really?” he says it in a way that seems geniunely curious, and it makes jerome feel strange.

 

“everyone underestimates my intelligence, and that’s what always fucks them over in the end.” he’s aware of how dark that was, but considering the look bruce gives him, he’s into it.

 

the kid’s eyes get an intense glint, and his mouth parts a little. jerome smirks darkly.

 

“you won’t ever underestimate me, will you, brucie?” he reaches for his dr. pepper and takes a sip, holding eye contact with bruce. the kid watches him closely and swallows, raising his chin a little.

 

“as long as you don’t underestimate me, either.” and the kid has his own smirk now. “i mean, look what happened last time.” jerome chuckles, setting the can down on the table again.

 

“well,” he drawls, swinging his feet off of bruce’s lap. “don’t ever test me. unless, of course, you want to know what happens.” bruce keeps a close eye, watching his every move. jerome smiles innocently as the kid’s body tenses up, as if ready for a fight.

 

“now i’m curious.” bruce mutters. jerome lets his eyes scan every inch of bruce, very obviously, before locking eyes again. bruce swallows, but remains stonefaced.

 

“maybe one day you’ll find out.” he says, before reaching into his backpocket and pulling out his phone. he checks the time, and sees it’s only one forty-six. “while i’m being vaguely threatening, i do have to give you a real warning.”

 

jerome sets his phone down and scoots closer to bruce, settling his arm around his tense shoulders.

 

“if you hurt jeremiah,” he starts lowly, “or take advantage of him, or so much as give him a look that i don’t like,” jerome pauses to look at bruce, who’s jaw is clenched, and has almost concealed fear in his eyes. “i won’t hesitate.”

 

bruce’s eyebrows twitch. “hesitate to do what?” jerome smiles widely, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

 

“that’s something you really _don’t_ want to find out, kid.” he tilts his head. “is that threat understood as a promise?” bruce nods.

 

“i don’t plan to ever take advantage of jeremiah,” bruce says confidently. “he’s brilliant, and kind. i like him. i’d be a fool to throw away the chance to be his friend.” jerome smiles knowingly.

 

“you’d be a fucking idiot.” bruce smiles too, and jerome slowly drags his hand across bruce’s shoulders and lets it settle in his own lap. he doesn’t miss the slight shiver. “so, what do you do for fun? like, real fun?”

 

bruce blinks at the change of tone and topic. “i go to a club.” and wow, jerome was not expecting that.

 

“no shit,” he says. “aren’t you too young for that?” bruce shrugs with a smile.

 

“i’m bruce wayne.” he answers cockily.

 

“i’m aware.” jerome replies, making bruce laugh.

 

“i just bought the club.” jerome busts out laughing, because _of course he fucking did._

 

“you rich people really have nothing better to do with your money?” he asks between laughs.

 

“of course,” bruce starts. “i donate to charity all the time, and i spend lot at wayne enterprises. i just have enough to also buy a club i’d like to frequent.”

 

jerome keeps laughing at the absurdity. “man, i can’t imagine what it must be like to have money. it must be pretty great. please tell me you have a badass house.” bruce rolls his eyes, suddenly seeming embarrassed by the topic.

 

“i live in a mansion.” jerome’s jaw drops. “and my gaurdian is also my butler.”

 

“ _what_?!” jerome laughs incredulously. “no fucking way! you have a fucking butler?”

 

“he’s more of a parent than anything now, but yes.” bruce isn’t looking at him, he’s instead playing with the hem of his sweater.

 

“dude, can i see your mansion someday?” he asks excitedly. “i promise i won’t steal any of your shit when you aren’t looking.” that finally makes bruce laugh and look at him.

 

“i mean, you probably could.” bruce replies with a small shrug. “i don’t see why not.” jerome smiles and gives a loud clap.

 

“what about this club?” jerome turns his body to face bruce fully, with not much space between them, and rests his arm on the back of the couch.

 

“i plan to go monday night,” bruce vaguely offers, and jerome gives a mischevious smile. “i’m going to be celebrating my birthday by getting black out drunk and forgetting everything.”

 

jerome raises his eyebrows. “you’re turning eighteen in, like, less than two days?” bruce nods, and so does jerome. “gonna be a real adult then, aren’t ya?”

 

he lets his eyes roam bruce’s face, and he can’t control the heat spreading through his body. he’s so close to the kid, and it would be so easy to get closer.

 

“i suppose so, yes.” bruce shifts a little, getting an inch closer, and _fuck_ , jerome doesn’t know if he can stop. his hand is next to bruce’s head, and he so badly wants to touch.

 

he can see the flush in bruce’s cheeks, and it makes it so much worse knowing that bruce feels it. that bruce _wants_ him to touch him.

 

fuck.

 

he shifts his gaze to watch the rise and fall of bruce’s chest, his breathing slow, but heavy. jerome licks his lips as a test, and the kid’s eye do flicker down to watch, just as he had hoped.

 

jerome feels powerful.

 

he moves his hand that’s by bruce’s head and lets his fingers ghost down and under his jaw. the kid moves with it, lips parting and eyes glazing over, and jerome _loves_ it. he stops under his chin, and lets his thumb rest just under his bottom lip, pulling down slightly. bruce is breathing faster now, and jerome can’t help smiling.

 

he feels a hot hand settle on the inner part of his thigh, and the arousal shoots through him like lightening. he really grips bruce’s chin now, and he loves the way his breath catches loudly, the way bruce’s hand grips his thigh tighter. the kid’s eyes are focused on his own, pupils dilated and cheeks a deep pink. he smiles again.

 

and then a feeling of fear starts to churn uncomfortably in his stomach, making him freeze and furrow his eyebrows. he shifts his gaze to the direction of the hallway and listens. he lets go of bruce, and sits up a little.

 

“what is it?” bruce asks quietly. he shakes his head.

 

“i think it’s miah.” he answers just as quietly.

 

“what do you mean?” before he can answer bruce, there’s a loud sob and a yell. he shoots off the couch, practically running to jeremiah’s room, and opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment on your thoughts! i love them and will respond as soon as i can! thanks for reading! bruce pov next chapter.


	5. the hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> turns out bruce is a real struggle for me to write. sorry if i dont do his pov often!

bruce stands up from the couch and follows close behind jerome. he stops in the doorway, watching jerome rush into the room and climb on the bed. jeremiah is sitting straight up now, staring at jerome, but it doesn’t look right. 

 

jeremiah is gasping in air, and bruce recognizes it as panic, but his expression is empty.

 

bruce gets a weird feeling in his stomach when he realizes jeremiah is whispering something. his eyes are glazed, like he hasn’t truly come out of whatever dream he was having.

 

“no, miah, she’s gone.” he hears jerome say. bruce listens now, and realizes what jeremiah is whispering, feeling his heart ache.

 

_mother?_

 

jeremiah is shaking and sweating, and jerome puts both hands on his shoulders, keeping eye contact. bruce stays in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

 

“miah, she is gone. she can’t get you here.” the words confuse bruce, but he doesn’t dare say a word.

 

jeremiah seems to snap out of it enough to really look back at jerome. bruce is already confused and concerned, but jeremiah’s next words multiply that feeling.

 

“she said she loved me, in my dream.” jeremiah looks heartbroken, and he watches jerome clench his jaw. bruce is afraid to breathe.

 

“why couldn’t she love me?” jeremiah continues, his voice sounding emotionless. “i tried to be normal, but nothing was enough. i’m not normal. i’m the bad twin.” jerome is shaking his head, and he moves his hands to the side of jeremiah’s face.

 

“that’s not true,” jerome says strongly. “you are not the bad twin, there is nothing wrong with you-“ but jerome is barely able to finish the sentence before jeremiah interrupts.

 

“ _nothing wrong with me?_ ” his voice is angry, almost shrill. his eyes come back to life, alight with something wild. “ _everything_ is wrong with me jerome! it’s no wonder she didn’t love me! i’m the half that was a mistake! it’s not like she _asked_ for twins! i’m the sick one, and she knew i was sick.”

 

“miah-“

 

“you know i’m right! i mean, why do you get all the normal things a person needs and i don’t? and-and why do i need glasses, and you don’t? how did that even _happen_ , jerome? i’m just- i’m not suppose to be here.”

 

jerome is silent for once, and bruce is holding his breath. jeremiah’s breathing is heavy, and he pushes jerome’s hands away from his face, moving to get off the bed. he freezes, however, when he locks eyes with bruce. he sees the anger drain from his face, only to be replaced with regret and fear.

 

he gets off the bed quickly and brushes past bruce in the doorway, disappearing into a bathroom right down the hall, and locking the door. bruce looks back at jerome, who is still on the bed.

 

bruce feels like too much happened for him to properly process, and just stands there. jerome sighs, running a hand through his red hair.

 

“and there is an example of him exploding when he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with his feelings.” jerome’s words sound like a joke, but his monotonous voice makes it too real. he gets off the bed and doesn’t look at bruce. he moves out of the doorway so jerome can get to the bathroom door. he knocks three times.

 

“miah? can you let me in?” jeremiah says nothing, and jerome sighs again. he sits with his back against the door. “you know it’s not true, right?”

 

bruce holds his breath, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does.

 

“you had a bad dream, and you are angry, and saying bullshit because you don’t know what else to do when you get angry.” jerome explains it simply, only to be answered with silence still.

 

“you are so much smarter than i could ever dream of being,” jerome’s tone goes softer, but loud enough to still be heard. “i mean, you truly are. you know how to fix things when they break, and you know how to make something new out of something old. you see patterns in everything, and can solve any maze in less than two minutes.” he falls silent for a few seconds.

 

“we may be identical twins, but you are one of a kind in this world.” bruce swallows hard at the words. they are not only true, but the kindest thing he thinks he will ever hear jerome say.

 

he can hear a faint cry after jerome says it that makes it hurt again. jerome squeezes his eyes shut, resting the back of his head against the door.

 

bruce thinks maybe he should do something, but he isn’t sure what. he just knows he has to let jeremiah know he’s still here, and that he understands.

 

he walks up to the door slowly and sits down next to jerome.

 

“jeremiah?” he calls out gently. “it’s bruce. i, um,” he stumbles, trying to figure out what to say. he looks down at his hand, at the small scar on his palm.

 

“after my parents died, i shut down.” he looks up at jerome, who is watching him blankly. “i tried to pretend i didn’t feel anything because i didn’t want to look weak. i even tried to tell myself i couldn’t feel anything physically. so you know what i did?” he pauses for a few seconds even though he knows he won’t hear anything.

 

“i stuck my hand over a flame.” jerome snickers. “needless to say, it hurt pretty bad, and i have a scar from it right on the palm of my hand.” he pauses again, and looks back at jerome, who is watching with interest now. “the scar reminds me i’m human, and that things hurt. i can’t change those two facts. instead, i needed to find ways to accept them. and i certainly didn’t learn to accept it on my own.”

 

it’s silent again for a while, before jerome speaks up again.

 

“i think the point is: stop being afraid of everything you feel, and if you need help, ask for it.” jerome says it in a way meant to sound bored, and he hears jeremiah scoff. jerome smiles a little. “can you let me in now?”

 

the lock clicks softly, and jerome gently cracks it open. he turns around, but doesn’t stand up, and pokes his head in while on his hands and knees. he hears jeremiah snicker, and bruce smiles a little. jerome pushes the door open a little more and crawls into the bathroom.

 

“how ya doin’?” he hears jerome ask. bruce is unsure if he should enter.

 

“tired,” jeremiah replies softly. “sad. kind of hungry.” jerome laughs a little, and bruce quietly crawls closer and pokes his head in like jerome did.

 

“can i come in, too?” bruce whispers. jeremiah looks at him with watery eyes, and it’s strange. he isn’t wearing his glasses, and his green eyes look practically identical to jerome’s. he supposes that would make sense.

 

“only if you crawl,” jerome whispers back, and jeremiah is trying to hold back a smile. bruce crawls in and stops across from the two redheads, who are leaning against a shower-tub with a blue curtain. he crosses his legs and tries not to stare at how close the twins are to each other.

 

“i’m sorry, j,” jeremiah is twisting his fingers together in his lap, something he does often. “for saying all of that.”

 

“hey, it’s fine,” jerome says nonchalantly. “i know what you’re like when you haven’t had enough sleep. or enough food. or enough tea.” jeremiah is rolling his eyes as jerome lists things off, and bruce feels like a lone audience member to a show that wasn’t supposed to be released.

 

jeremiah scoots a bit closer to jerome and rests his head on his shoulder. he sniffs and rubs at his eyes harshly. when he opens his eyes again, he looks at bruce.

 

“i’m sorry you had to even witness this.” bruce just shakes his head.

 

“it’s no big deal,” he tries to be as nonchalant as jerome. “i mean, it was kind of scary, but it’s the kind of thing friends are supposed to witness, so they can help you.” bruce keeps eye contact with jeremiah, who blinks slowly. his eyes are still watery, and his nose and cheeks are red. he looks afraid, yet calm, drained of energy.

 

“why don’t i get pizza now,” jerome chimes in. “and then after we eat, you can go to sleep for real.” jeremiah closes his eyes, leaning further into jerome’s side. bruce can’t decide what’s stranger; jeremiah seeking comfort, or jerome being the comforter.

 

he’s only known jeremiah for a short amount of time, but he would have guessed he preferred to be alone, which isn’t completely wrong. bruce just thought he wouldn’t want someone to hold him close the way his twin is.

 

jerome’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, legs straight out, with jeremiah’s bent knees resting on his thigh. his head is tucked close on jerome’s shoulder, his fingers twisted together.

 

bruce wonders if his fingers ever get sore.

 

he shifts his gaze, and locks eyes with jerome, and raises his eyebrows.

 

“i’ll pay for it,” bruce quickly offers. “since i’m not sure i fully trust you to do that.” jerome smiles widely.

 

“sure, just give me, like, twenty bucks. that should be enough for a large pizza, right?” jerome looks questioningly at the top of jeremiah’s head.

 

“probably, yes.” jeremiah closes his eyes again, trying not to smile. it confuses bruce. jerome ruffles jeremiah’s hair before moving to stand up.

 

bruce pulls out his wallet and starts to stand up as well.

 

“why don’t you stay, bruce,” jerome purses his lips. “i don’t really wanna leave him alone.” he says it in a stage whisper, making him smile. he nods, feeling slightly nervous, before pulling a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handing it to jerome.

 

“alrighty, i’ll be back eventually.” jerome smiles and waves before exiting the bathroom.

 

bruce looks at the redhead left behind, and feels a bubble of worry. he looks lost. when the first alarm goes off, he notices that jeremiah stops breathing, and he starts to worry a little more.

 

when the second alarm goes off, his eyes flicker down to his hands, watching him tap four times. he stops tapping when the alarm goes off two more times, and then he lets out a long exhale.

 

everything is silent.

 

“you tapped four times while the door was open,” bruce throws out into the silence, his curiosity piqued. jeremiah jumps slightly, and he feels bad for not keeping his voice gentle. “i’m sorry,” he quickly applogizes.

 

“no, you’re, uh,” jeremiah stumbles, twisting his fingers together, again, and shaking his head. “it’s fine. um, yes, i did,” he sounds confused, like maybe he didn’t notice, or was shocked bruce had.

 

“i prefer the door open for only four seconds,” jeremiah sounds small when he says it, like it’s embarrassing.

 

“that’s good to know,” bruce replies. “jerome mentioned there was a way for you to ‘buzz me in’ if he isn’t here?” jeremiah finally looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. he nods. “well, if i ever stop by when jerome’s not here, i’ll know to leave the door open for only four seconds.”

 

jeremiah blinks, so bruce smiles at him, wanting to help ease his nerves. jeremiah tries to smile back. his eyes flicker down to bruce’s lap, where he’s still holding his wallet.

 

“he still isn’t going to pay for that pizza,” jeremiah says softly. “you just gave him twenty dollars.”

 

“i know,” jeremiah looks up at him, and bruce laughs quietly. this time, jeremiah smiles, although it’s different from his brother’s. he doesn’t show his teeth, and it looks cute rather than slightly unsettling.

 

bruce isn’t quite sure unsettled is what he always feels when jerome smiles at him. bruce feels a lot of things when it comes to jerome.

 

jeremiah feels different. he’s softer, more kind, mannerful. bruce wanted to see more of jeremiah, and he got what he wanted, but he was hoping to see something that was, well, _good_.

 

“then why did you give it to him?” bruce just shrugs.

 

“he will use it on something eventually,” he says, shifting around to put his wallet back in his pocket. jeremiah is watching him closely, and he tries not to be anxious. he’s never been truly alone with jeremiah before.

 

“can i see your hand?” bruce raises his eyebrows, thrown off by the question. he looks down and remembers the scar.

 

“i guess so,” he gets up on his knees and moves closer, sitting to the right of him where jerome was. once he gets comfortable, he holds his right hand out, with his plam facing up.

 

“i thought maybe you made it up,” jeremiah says softly, raising a shaky hand up and running a single finger over the small, pink discoloration. bruce’s fingers twitch.

 

“why would i make it up?” he says it just as softly, eyes focused on jeremiah. he can see all of the freckles on his nose and under his eyes, and he resists the urge to touch.

 

“so i would open the door,” he is still gently touching the burn with his finger. “it’s also really strange seeing bruce wayne sitting on my bathroom floor.” bruce laughs softly.

 

“well, to be fair, it’s weird that you’re on a bathroom floor, too.” jeremiah finally looks at him, eyes still watery. “you’re always so well put together.” jeremiah blinks, taken aback by what he said.

 

“i am the opposite of well put together,” he says, his hand stilling. “i’m just constantly pretending like i have manners, when all i really want is more sleep and probably more whiskey.” jeremiah closes his eyes and bruce can’t help the surprised laugh.

 

“whiskey and sleep is really all you need?” jeremiah opens his eyes again, a bit blearily, and nods. “why haven’t we been drinking whiskey for the past two minutes then?” he’s smiling, and jeremiah slowly starts to smile, too.

 

now, bruce can’t help but give in just a little, needing to do it, not knowing if he will have another opportunity. he shifts his hand a little, just enough, so jeremiah’s fingers rest in his palm. jeremiah’s gaze shifts down at the movement.

 

he shifts his hand again, and jeremiah’s fingers easily slide between his own, but neither of them close their hands yet. bruce feels a rush of nervous energy, before letting his fingers close down, and feels his heart speed up when jeremiah does the same. he strokes his thumb along the outside of jeremiah’s, and lets out a quiet exhale.

 

he hasn’t been able to look away from jeremiah, watching his expression, making sure he isn’t going to make a wrong move. jeremiah is like a fragile object that is constantly teetering on the edge of the shelf. bruce doesn’t want to be the one to knock him off.

 

but he has been dying to get closer, to study him, really see who he is.

 

now he’s holding his hand, and bruce isn’t sure what to do next. he knows jeremiah won’t either, however, so he decides to continue their conversation.

 

“never would have seen you as a whiskey drinker,” he says. jeremiah’s gaze flickers back up to meet his, and he pauses to just look. he’s hit suddenly at the memory of jerome, of him being so close with his hand on his face, and feels a wave of arousal hit him. he swallows hard. “tea, however, definitely suits you.”

 

jeremiah’s eyes flicker over his face, probably taking in details the way he is. who knows when he will be this close to jeremiah again.

 

“i live on tea,” jeremiah says, eyes still moving over his face. “but i think i would die without whiskey.” bruce smiles, and notices the way the redhead’s eyes halt to stare. his heart speeds up a little more as he tries to think of a response.

 

he’s going to have a heart attack before the day is over.

 

“well then,” he starts to say, jeremiah’s gaze snapping back up to his. “i must repeat my question: why haven’t we been drinking whiskey these past two minutes?” jeremiah is smiling again, and there’s a blush taking over his cheeks.

 

“you’re a little young to drink, aren’t you?” bruce squeezes his hand, just enough to to be a reminder.

 

“i own a club, i can drink as much as i want.” jeremiah snorts and rolls his eyes, and bruce feels giddy.

 

“then i guess i should take you to my third office,” jeremiah’s hand loosens and he reluctantly let’s go, watching as jeremiah unfurls in preperation to stand up. bruce does the same, only faster, and once he’s standing, he offers the redhead a hand up.

 

jeremiah smiles for a split second, before getting his feet under him and gently taking bruce’s hand. he basks in the touch while it lasts, and when jeremiah is fully standing, he’s reminded of how big the redhead is.

 

seeing him on the floor, curled up and trying to keep himself together, he looked so small. bruce takes a minute to gauge how wide his shoulders are compared to his own. bruce is also probably a few inches shorter, and not nearly as muscular. jeremiah is still wearing the same navy button up with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. he thinks it must be uncomfortable sleeping in a tight, formal shirt.

 

bruce is starting to feel really small.

 

jeremiah brushes by and exits the bathroom. bruce follows silently.

 

“i call this an office,” jeremiah says as he leads him further down the hallway, and past the one he has been in a few times. “but really i just sit on the couch and drink. it’s the place i go when i can’t get the energy to work, but need something to do.” he stops at a door, swinging it open, and holds it open for bruce to enter.

 

the first thing that catches his attention is the blue lighting. it’s not obnoxiously blue, like at a club, but a dim, soft color. there’s a light gray couch in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it.

 

and at the back of the room on a table, there’s a rather large collection of whiskey.

 

he raises his eyebrows and looks back at jeremiah, impressed.

 

“it’s not like i can actually afford it, but luckily for me, jerome is an excellent theif.” and bruce should be upset that he _knows_ someone is stealing really expensive things, and he hasn’t reported it in the slightest. but then he remembers that his best friend does the exact same thing, and feels less guilty.

 

“uh, if you will excuse me for a minute,” he turns back towards jeremiah, who is twisting his fingers. bruce purses his lips. “i’d really like to go grab my glasses.” bruce nods and turns back towards the whiskey table.

 

he hears jeremiah quietly leave the room, and takes the chance to look through the collection. there are six different types, and bruce doesn’t know anything about whiskey, or how much it costs. he doesn’t even know if it’s good. he only ever really chugged party drinks. whiskey feels more sophisticated.

 

he thinks maybe whiskey does suit jeremiah.

 

he turns to see jeremiah reenter the office with his glasses on, and he has to take a deep breath.

 

he looks so afraid and tired.

 

“pick your favorite,” bruce says with a soft smile. jeremiah looks at him breifly before shifting his gaze behind him to the whiskey. he starts moving closer and stops next to bruce, hand reaching out. he picks up a bottle without hesitation.

 

under the table is a door, and jeremiah pulls out two glasses from the cabinet. without a word, the redhead moves to sit them down on the glass coffee table before sitting on the couch. bruce follows, watching him with interest.

 

he’s never met any other twins before, but he didn’t think twins could be so different from each other.

 

jeremiah is so closed off and jittery, quiet and mature. jerome is almost too open, and loud, and always so intent on having fun. bruce thinks that, put together, they would make a complete human. bruce would not be able to handle a combination of them.

 

he can’t imagine a person with jeremiah’s intelligence and jerome’s personality.

 

he sits down to the right of jeremiah, probably closer than he should, but he can’t help himself.

 

he was so close to jerome earlier, but it’s easier with him. bruce wants to soak in as much as he can with jeremiah while he has the chance.

 

he’s not sure if his interest and fascination with the man is romantic or platonic, he just knows he needs to know him.

 

jerome is a different story.

 

jeremiah has poured two fingers worth of whiskey in both glasses, and he hands one to bruce. he intentionally lets their fingers touch before muttering a thank you, watching jeremiah take a sip.

 

his eyes are still puffy, but he looks more human than he did earlier. bruce takes a sip, taking a deep breath as the burn hits the back of his throat.

 

“this is your favorite?” bruce manages to get out, enjoying the amusement in jeremiah’s eyes.

 

“it’s the one that burns the most,” jeremiah answers, and bruce smiles, shaking his head. he knew what he was doing.

 

maybe he has more in common with jerome that he has yet to discover.

 

“well, it’s good,” bruce says, raising the glass a little. “not that i’ve drank any other whiskey to compare it to.” it makes jeremiah smile, and bruce can’t help but stare. he wonders if he can ever get a real, genuine smile out of him.

 

he looks back into jeremiah’s eyes, and sees confusion, and slight panic. bruce furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head a little.

 

jeremiah looks away and takes a bigger sip. bruce licks his lips and sits down his glass on the table, jeremiah’s eyes following the movement. bruce isn’t quite sure what he’s doing, but he feels like he needs to do something.

 

“can i hug you?” he hears himself say it before he really registers it. “it’s okay to say no.” he keeps his voice calm, gentle, the opposite of how he feels. jeremiah looks at him, eyebrows raised, and opens his mouth. nothing comes out.

 

“um,” jeremiah pauses. “if you want to.” he almost whispers it, and he is completely still. bruce takes a deep breath and scoots closer, the memory of him and jerome flashing through his mind. he dismisses it.

 

bruce reaches his hand out and takes jeremiah’s glass, sitting it down quietly. he notices jeremiah’s quick breaths, and feels his own heart rate speed up.

 

“you can say no,” bruce reminds him gently, trying to make eye contact. “i want you comfortable with me.”

 

jeremiah finally looks up from his lap, and bruce almost lets his composure slip. he never wants to look away from him. he never wants to be far away from him.

 

bruce wants to touch him.

 

jeremiah just nods silently, eyes flickering over bruce’s face. he moves a little closer to the redhead and lifts a leg up under himself to fully face him. he’s almost touching him, can feel the hest radiating off of him. he raises his left hand and gently rests it on jeremiah’s shoulder.

 

he hears him inhale sharply through his nose and hold it, and bruce wants him to breathe, but he isn’t sure if he should stop or keep going.

 

he slides his hand around slowly, leaning closer, until his hand is resting on his opposite shoulder, and brings his other arm up to do the same. bruce moves in so his chin can rest on jeremiah’s shoulder.

 

his body is frozen under him, and he thinks maybe he should pull back now, that maybe five seconds is enough for jeremiah, but bruce feels fingers gently touch his right side. they are hesitant and barely there, but bruce doesn’t move.

 

he thinks he should let jeremiah control the situation.

 

jeremiah’s hand is now resting lightly on his ribs, and bruce so badly wants to reach down and make him really hold him, really feel him, but he doesn’t. he doesn’t want to scare him away.

 

he listens to jeremiah’s somewhat calm breathing behind his ear, and wonders what’s going through his head. he always wonders what jeremiah is thinking about.

 

and then he feels the redhead’s fingers grip his black sweater, and he’s starting to hold on a little tighter-

 

loud vibrations erupt from his back pocket, signaling he is getting a phone call. they both jump, and jeremiah pulls his hand back like a kid caught touching something he wasn’t suppose to be. bruce lets go quickly, but gently, and pulls his phone out.

 

“it’s jerome,” he says, before hitting the green answer button. “hello?”

 

“hey, just wanted to warn ya that i’m about to come in, and to please make sure jeremiah knows it’s me.” bruce hears the car door slam in the background.

 

“of course,” he looks at jeremiah, who is reaching for his glass.

 

“thanks.” the phone beeps signaling jerome hung up. he watches jeremiah down the rest of his whiskey. he sets down his phone on the table and slides his glass towards the redhead, knowing he won’t finish it. jeremiah takes it without question.

 

“jerome’s about to come in,” bruce watches his profile as he downs the second drink quickly. he must drink often. jeremiah takes a deep breath, and bruce gets the feeling that something isn’t right.

 

an alarm goes off, and the redhead closes his eyes, waiting for the second one. when it sounds, bruce watches him tap four times, and hears a third alarm, followed by a fourth. jeremiah exhales and opens his eyes.

 

“i wonder what kind of pizza he stole,” bruce jokes, though genuinely curious, and starts to stand up. a soft hand on his wrist makes him stop. jeremiah’s hand doesn’t stay long, just a brief touch, but it’s enough to be surprising.

 

“thank you.” he says quietly. he doesn’t make eye contact as he stands up himself and starts heading out of the room. bruce swallows and follows him out.

 

“i totally bought a large half hawaiian, half pepperoni pizza.” he hears jerome say to jeremiah, who enters the kitchen area before him. jeremiah scoffs.

 

jerome has the box opened on the concrete island, and pulls out a piece of hawaiian. bruce watches with amusement as he takes a disgustingly huge bite, and notices jeremiah just staring, with a mix of amusment and disappointment. it makes bruce laugh.

 

they both look at him, and he just shakes his head.

 

he joins jeremiah at the island while jerome stands across from them, all eating a pizza that was most definitely stolen. bruce looks between them both as they interact, and gets a strange feeling in his stomach.

 

what has he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think in the comments. i love comments!!!!!!!!!! thank you for reading everyone (:


	6. the journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is quite literally half the length of my other chapters, but i like it how it is, and i felt like what i have planned next would have made the chapter way too long and way too packed full of stuff. i hope you enjoy!

when jeremiah finally went to bed to hopefully get some real sleep, jerome prepares himself to say goodbye to bruce. he had almost forgotten about their moment on the couch with all the chaos. he does remember an invitation of sorts, though.

 

“so, a birthday party on monday, huh?” jerome asks, stopping in front of the door and facing bruce. the kid smiles before nodding.

 

“yes. i’m guessing you will be there?” the kid looks hopeful, and jerome can’t help the smile that takes over his features.

 

“only if you’re picking me up,” he moves to the keypad, preparing to unlock the door. bruce huffs out a laugh as jerome enters the six digit code, and hears the alarm sound.

 

“oh, and uh,” he turns back around to face bruce. “don’t ever bring up what happened. no questions, nothing. just move on. got it?” jerome holds eye contact, watching the way he raises his chin a bit.

 

“of course,” bruce says it with a gentle confidence, and jerome takes a second to look at his features. he only finds kindness.

 

he left his twin and bruce alone for a reason. he still can’t help but wonder what bruce and jeremiah talked about while he was gone anyway.

 

jerome opens the door, hearing the alarm again, and bruce brushes past him quickly. jerome closes the door in four seconds and locks it, taking a deep breath before looking over at the couch. he can’t stop the arousal that starts to rear it’s head. jerome leans his back against the door and closes his eyes, losing himself in the memories.

 

bruce’s small frame, the delicate skin of his cheek, the softness of his bottom lip under his thumb. the small puffs of hot air, the pink flush, and the dilated pupils. the hot hand on his thigh, the hair between his fingers, the shared heartbeat in their palms-

 

his brain stutters.

 

short circuits.

 

_no_ , jerome thinks, _that’s not right_. he opens his eyes and feels uneasy, but tries to ignore it. jerome feels the tightness in his jeans regardless, and he considers taking another shower. he thinks that sounds like a great idea.

 

-

 

when jerome goes to bed that night, it feels off. he opens the door next to his own, and sees his twin sleeping. he quietly closes the door and returns to his own bed.

 

he tosses and turns all night.

 

-

 

it’s six in the morning on sunday when jerome gives up. he throws the blanket off and picks up a red t-shirt off the floor. he pulls it on over his head and considers the sweatpants across the room, but doesn’t feel like putting in the effort.

 

he opens his door and drags his feet to the kitchen, remembering he never ate his pancakes from yesterday. he can practically feel jeremiah wake up as he opens the fridge and pulls out the pancakes. he cooks them for a minute and pulls them out, fanning away the steam. his twin appears in the kitchen slowly, quietly, like he always does.

 

“morning,” jerome greets him, voice feeling rough. jeremiah sits on a stool.

 

“you didn’t sleep last night,” jeremiah says, rubbing at his left eye under his glasses. it’s adorable, jerome thinks.

 

“how’d you know?” he asks, tearing up his pancakes. “do i look like shit or something?” he looks at jeremiah, who looks tired still.

 

“no, you never look bad,” jerome smiles and raises his eyebrows.

 

“are you flirting with me? cause that feels kinda narcissistic,” he jokes, shoving pieces of pancake in his mouth and chewing around a smile.

 

“don’t be weird,” jeremiah scolds him, but he’s doing it with a smile. jerome considers it a win. “i could practically feel your restlessness in my soul, j. is there something wrong?”

 

jerome pauses his chewing for a second, thrown off by the quick transition between joking and genuine concern, and swallows.

 

“nothing wrong,” he looks down at his pancakes, something feeling different. “just an off night, that’s all.” it’s quiet for a few seconds.

 

“you’re eating your pancakes plain.” jeremiah blurts out, like it’s a horrible fact, and jerome realizes that it kind of is. he furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

 

“i’m fine, miah,” he insists with a smile. “i think i need to just stay home today. try to relax. or something.” he says it absentmindedly while he searches for the syrup, refusing to continue eating his pancakes plain. he makes a noise of triumph when he finds it, and lets it pour heavily on his mess of pancakes.

 

“i’ll probably work all day on the generator,” jeremiah says, eyes focused on the syrup. “you can come in if you get too bored.”

 

jerome smiles at the disgust in jeremiah’s eyes. his twin doesn’t have a sweet tooth like he does. he prefers bitter tea, bitter alcohol, bitter coffee. yet he is the opposite of the word bitter.

 

“i’ll probably keep ya company,” he stops the onslaught of syrup, and puts it down to find a fork. “sorry if i disturbed your sleep. fuck knows you needed it.”

 

“it’s fine, j,” his twin immediantly replies. jerome feels bad anyway. “i just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

 

jerome takes his fork and plate and slides around to sit beside jeremiah on a stool. he stabs a piece of syrup covered pancake and shoves it in his mouth, loving the sweetness.

 

“i’m fine. like i said, it was just an off night. it’ll pass. don’t worry though, i can still annoy the shit out of you while you work.” jeremiah huffs out a breath that could have been a laugh, and jerome shoves more pancake in his mouth with a smile.

 

as the day progresses, he eventually ends up in jeremiah’s building room, watching his twin do what he does best. it’s quiet besides the sounds of work, and jerome likes it for once. he wonders if maybe something _is_ wrong with him.

 

the silence lets him simply enjoy the presence of jeremiah. something he doesn’t do often enough. jerome thinks maybe the recent breakthrough has him out of wack. now that he’s aware his twin wants to be comforted by him, jerome never wants to leave him alone.

 

he watches jeremiah roll his shirt sleeves up a little more and stare at his blueprints. he watches him chew on his bottom lip, and his eyebrows twitch before he pushes his glasses up. he watches as he turns back to his unfinished creation and picks up little pieces and tools.

 

jerome is fascinated.

 

he has, of course, always been fascinated with jeremiah. he’s smart, dangerously brilliant, and while he knows it’s something they have in common, jeremiah shows it in better ways.

 

jerome knows how to break into places, how to find out people’s secrets and weaknesses, how to manipulate and blackmail to get what he wants. jeremiah is a builder, a creator, and he doesn’t use his brain for bad things.

 

not in a long time, anyway.

 

jerome takes a moment to get deep into his memories, of before his twin became so afraid.

 

jeremiah was always anxious, introverted, quiet. but both of them had journals as kids. journals are where kids can keep their deepest, darkest secrets and fantasies, and that’s exactly what they used them for.

 

one night, jerome took a peek in jeremiah’s journal.

 

they shared a room, if you could call it that, and an air mattress on the floor. he knew where jeremiah hid his journal; under the broken recliner at the other end of the trailer. no one ever sat in it, or even went over there, so he supposes it made sense.

 

jeremiah was asleep, wrapped up in a sleeping bag, breathing softly, quietly. everything he does is soft and quiet. jerome couldn’t help it, he just had to know what jeremiah wasn’t telling him.

 

jerome was amazed at what he found out that night.

 

jerome didn’t even have an inner voice telling him that maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, that it’s an invasion of privacy. he felt no guilt or shame.

 

(jerome still struggles with this, but he at least knows now what boundaries are.)

 

most of the pages at the front were mazes. they started out simple, with wide paths and small dimensions. but the more pages he flipped through, the more intricate and complicated they got.

 

he thinks maybe they were meant as a distraction from the paragraphs hidden inbetween.

 

when he finally found writing, he was sixteen pages deep. it detailed his love for mazes, and the differences between mazes and labyrinths, and it seems pretty mild. the further he read, however, he realized there were some dark things on his twin’s mind.

 

- _i wanted to create a maze on my leg. i thought an ink pen would be enough. i pressed so hard it started to hurt. it wasn’t enough. i didn’t dare make it permanent. j would see_.

 

(certain passages are engraved in jerome’s mind, and he swallows as the words float through his head.)

 

based on the date at the top, they were ten years old when he wrote it. it worried him. jerome kept looking, though.

 

on page twenty-six, he found more writing, detailing how he took apart owen’s truck engine, and didn’t put it back together even though he knew how to. owen had slapped jerome that day, so he snuck out one night to get secret revenge.

 

- _i wish mother was an engine i could take apart. then i could put her back together so she would love us._

 

(jerome feels his lip curl, remembering jeremiah’s struggle with wanting to be loved. it’s still something that’s on his mind, even now. after _everything_ , he still wakes from nightmares of her. yesterday was proof of that.)

 

jerome stopped after that one and put it back. he tried to sleep, but all he could think about was what else could be in that journal.

 

he ended up reading more, finding another paragraph on page thirty-two. it must have been a while since he had used the journal, since it was something from when they were thirteen.

 

jerome learned that, sometimes, jeremiah wanted to kill their mother.

 

and jerome couldn’t blame him. he had the same thoughts himself. he was just shocked his twin felt the same. he wrote the different ways he had thought about it. poisoning her alcohol with bleach or bathroom cleaner, bashing her head in with a kitchen pan, slitting her throat and watching her die slowly.

 

jerome was _amazed_.

 

the ideas were different from his own, but they suited jeremiah. the poison was smart, kind of sneaky. the other two were slow, painful, violent. jerome’s were more, well, _bedazzled_.  theatrical, if you will.

 

he thought of chopping her up with a hatchet, breaking a bottle over her head and gutting her with the broken glass, dragging her drunken, passed out body into the lion cages and riling then up.

 

jerome needed to know more, wanted to get deeper into jeremiah’s mind. he never knew his twin had such dark thoughts. on page thirty-nine, he finds a paragraph that affected him the most.

 

the one that changed everything for them.

 

jerome is snapped out of his trance when jeremiah drops a tool, the loud metal clanging making him jump in his chair.

 

“shit-i’m sorry-“ miah rushes out, noticing him jump. he resists the urge to smirk at jeremiah’s curse, something so rarely done.

 

“it’s fine, miah,” he says around a slight laugh as his twin scrambles to pick up the screwdriver. he stands up and sets it down, already twisting his fingers together. it’s something he wishes jeremiah wouldn’t do. “it’s not like you chucked it at my head. just scared the piss out of me.”

 

jerome decides to stand now, stretching out his legs.

 

“you were just so - i don’t know, calm. that’s such a rare thing.” he can feel jeremiah watching him move around the room.

 

“yeah, well,” he reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants, and smiles. “now i’m gonna be annoying.” he looks over at his twin, pulling his hand out of his pocket. he smiles devilishly as jeremiah closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

 

he bounces the purple bouncy ball off the floor, back into his hand, and cackles.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts! or any ideas you might have about jeremiah’s journal. or even jerome’s. oh boy.  
> super excited! thank you for reading. ❤️


	7. the bad dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone. i know, this took FOREVER, but !!!!! i have this chapter, AND the next chapter done, and already working on the NEXT chapter. i’m trying to get a chapter ahead so that updates won’t take as long. some real plot stuff is going to be happening in the next few chapters. i hope you enjoy.

jerome actually feels tired at around ten o’clock that night, and he makes jeremiah go to bed, too. his twin is almost done with the generator, but he needs to sleep.

 

“you have until friday, and it’s only sunday,” jerome points out. jeremiah tidies up the table of tools before running a hand through his neatly done hair. “there’s no rush, miah. get some sleep, and start again tomorrow morning. you worked a full fourteen hours this time.”

 

jerome spent the first four hours attempting to do his laundry, but getting bored of hanging and folding and hanging and folding. he spent two hours with jeremiah, and then another two hours making and eating lunch for himself after his twin refused.

 

it was around four o’clock when jerome started to hate staying home an entire day.

 

he has no clue how jeremiah can stand it. he feels trapped and so very _bored_. he decided to go look for something for dinner, and didn’t find anything that sounded good. he went to his room and started folding laundry again, and actually finished. it was only five o’clock by then.

 

so jerome did what kills time the fastest. he took a nap.

 

when he woke up a little before eight, he realized he probably wouldn’t sleep well tonight, again, and mentally punches himself, but is thankful for some time wasted.

 

he sat in silence with jeremiah again, and when it was almost ten o’clock, he could see his twin start to slow down. obviously, he jumped on him as quick as he could.

 

“i just want to be done,” jeremiah sighs out, walking around the table towards jerome. “i want to know if it’s going to work.”

 

jerome plasters on a smile and wraps an arm around jeremiah’s shoulders. “i’m about ninety percent sure it’s going to work,” he says, steering them out the door and to the right.

 

jeremiah scoffs. “ah, yes. of course. if _you_ are ninety percent sure it will, then it must.” jerome’s smile grows bigger.

 

“and don’t you ever forget that.” he sees a small smile on his twin’s face. jerome squeezes him a little closer. “now, get some sleep.”

 

he lets go of jeremiah as his twin opens his bedroom door. jerome walks a little further to his own door, before getting a weird feeling in his throat. he swallows and pauses.

 

“miah?” he calls out, turning back around. his twin pauses in the doorway and looks at him. “let me know if you need anything.”

 

his twin nods with furrowed eyebrows, and closes the door behind him. jerome does the same.

 

he slides his shirt off over his head but leaves on his sweatpants, and climbs under his blanket.

 

jerome hates when he feels things he doesn’t understand. jerome hates when he feels things and can’t tell which one of them is feeling it. jerome hates when he feels something he shouldn’t. jerome hates that jeremiah can feel what he feels sometimes.

 

jerome decides he is _definitely_ having an off day.

 

he hopes tomorrow is better. he is going out with bruce and can’t risk having any kind of outbursts. he realizes he never told jeremiah he was going out. he wonders if he even knows tomorrow is bruce’s birthday.

 

he needs his mind to shut the fuck up so he can sleep.

 

-

 

he knows he shouldn’t have said ‘fuck you’ to owen after the older man slapped him across the face. mouthing off only makes things worse. but he loves knowing that he can piss them off, and he loves letting them know that they don’t mean _shit_ to him.

 

his lungs hurt from running, and he can no longer hear owen and his friends chasing him. he slows down inside the cornfield, and listens, knowing someone else is in it. he can’t call out, though, can’t risk being heard.

 

he hears fingers snapping to his left, and starts to head that way, already feeling his presence in his chest.

 

jerome finally finds the path that leads to their secret area, were they have beaten down enough corn to sit and do whatever they want in peace. it’s mostly for jeremiah though.

 

when he finally sees jeremiah, he feels giddy, until his twin’s sadness seeps into his mind.

 

“hiya, miah,” he greets, giggling at the rhyme. jeremiah doesn’t turn to face him though.

 

“hi, j.” his voice is quiet, almost weak sounding. jerome is instantly flooded with concern.

 

“what are you up to out here?” he asks, catiously stepping closer to sit down in the dirt next to him. “are you drawing?”

 

he notices jeremiah’s closed journal in his lap, and tries to ignore that he’s read it, that he knows what secrets lay inside. jeremiah opens the journal back up and shows a new maze drawing that isn’t finished yet, but already looks crazy hard for an average person. he nods in approval.

 

“that looks tough, but i bet i could get it.” jerome says it confidently, expecting a scoff, but gets nothing. “you okay?”

 

jeremiah won’t even look at him, and jerome wonders if he did something, if his twin is upset with him. jeremiah sniffs quietly, and jerome scoots closer, wiping the dirt on his hand off on his pant leg before letting it rest gently on his twin’s tense shoulder.

 

“you weren’t there,” it’s whipsered brokenly and jerome realizes that this must be serious. he isn’t good at serious. “you weren’t there, but i was.”

 

jerome doesn’t understand, he needs jeremiah to use his words, to tell him what’s wrong, but when jeremiah looks at him -

 

he freezes. he can’t breathe.

 

jeremiah’s right eye is dark purple and swollen, the green of his iris barely peeking out, and his cheek has been split open. his twin’s glasses aren’t broken, so he must not have been wearing them -

 

and then it all makes sense.

 

that _whore_ thought jeremiah was him.

 

jerome just stares, feeling the white hot anger course through him, while jeremiah cries. he gets up on his knees and puts his anger to the side enough to comfort his twin, be there for him, since he was fucking _gone_ when it happened. he holds him close, and has never felt more guilt, has never felt more _anger_ at their ‘mother’.

 

jerome just keeps repeating that he’s sorry, but he can’t undo what he’s caused.

 

he decides in that moment that being fourteen isn’t too young to get out.

 

“j?” jeremiah’s voice sounds off, and jerome starts to pull away, when he hears people running through the cornfield, yelling out to them, and _no no no_ , this isn’t supposed to happen, this _can’t_ be happening -

 

“jerome!” his eyes snap open and he sits up quickly, ready to defend his twin, but he slowly realizes it was a dream, he was reliving his past, and jeremiah is okay.

 

jeremiah is on his knees on his bed, glasses off and hair askew, and wearing a normal t-shirt for once. he thinks maybe it’s actually his.

 

his eye isn’t swollen, and his cheek is fine, so he tries to gain control of his breathing again.

 

“you were having a bad dream,” jeremiah sounds slightly afraid, which makes sense. jerome doesn’t have bad dreams, and if he does, they don’t affect him.

 

something is _wrong_ with him.

 

it’s like finally having jeremiah again opened up a door in his head. he doesn’t like this door being opened.

 

“what time is it?” he asks quietly, running a hand tiredly through his hair. jeremiah looks at the clock on jerome’s nightstand. he supposes he could’ve looked for himself.

 

“it’s three in the morning,” jeremiah looks back at him, still looking freaked out. jerome flops back down on his back and sighs heavily.

 

“wanna stay?” he recovers his lower half and leaves the blanket open as an invitation. jeremiah looks nervous, and that’s understandable. jerome feels a bit weird himself, but he doesn’t think laying in bed all night wide awake and alone sounds like much fun. his twin nods though, and he moves his legs out from underneath himself before sliding them under the blanket.

 

when jeremiah’s head rests on his pillow, jerome turns onto his left side to face his twin so that his bedroom door is in his line of vision. jerome knows he hates sleeping with his back to the door, so he wordlessly says he will keep watch.

 

they haven’t done this in probably close to ten years.

 

“thanks,” jerome hears himself say it, and isn’t one hundred percent sure why he says it, but jeremiah just looks at him in the darkness and scoots a little closer.

 

jerome feels their legs bump under the blanket, and he lets his heavy eyes close.

 

he falls asleep listening to jeremiah’s breathing grow soft.

 

-

 

when he wakes up, he’s alone, and his clock tells him it’s already ten o’clock. jeremiah has probably already started working, the persistant dork, and he ponders just staying in bed all day, when he remembers he has plans.

 

he groans and rolls out of bed, not even bothering with a shirt. he heads down the hallway and goes straight for the building room, knocking twice before swinging the door open violently.

 

“hey-o, i’ve awakened,” he announces, despite the knowledge that jeremiah would have already known.

 

jeremiah doesn’t seem to be working very hard. he’s sitting in a chair, staring at the blueprints tiredly, still wearing what is definitely one of jerome’s shirts and a pair of blue plaid pyjama pants.

 

“i see that,” jeremiah drawls out, not even looking up at him. _how can you see that without looking_ , jerome thinks childishly, before moving more into the room.

 

“i’m surprised at how under-dressed you are for ten o’clock in the morning,” jerome says, too curious to not throw the statement out there. jeremiah glances over at him quickly, eyes lingering on his bare chest before looking back at the blueprints.

 

“you’re one to talk about being under-dressed,” his twin quips back, pushing up his glasses. “i’m wearing more clothes than you are, at least.”

 

“got a point,” jerome mumbles. he walks over to his twin and leans against the table he’s sitting at. he ignores the fact that he avoided answering the unasked question.

 

“fun fact: i found out today is bruce’s birthday,” jeremiah looks up at him surprised, and sits back in his chair. “he’s having a party tonight that i’ll be going to.”

 

jeremiah’s expression is blank, and jerome feels a pinch of nervousness.

 

“is he picking you up? how will you get home if you both get drunk? he isn’t going to drive, and neither are you.” jeremiah’s parent mode has been activated, though he brings up good points jerome hadn’t really thought about.

 

he purses his lips and pats his pockets looking for his phone. “i’ll text him as soon as i find my phone.” jerome says, and jeremiah nods, sitting forward again in his chair to focus on the blueprints again. “what are you doing?”

 

“i’m stuck,” jeremiah sighs out. “i think i’m missing something, or i put something in the wrong place. i don’t know,” he runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. jerome thinks maybe he needs a break.

 

“have you eaten? had coffee? brushed your teeth?” jeremiah squints at him when he says the last one. “i know you like brushing your teeth, so don’t try to say you don’t, you dental nerd.”

 

jeremiah rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny it. “let’s go eat something and get your brain really going.” jerome suggests already heading to the door. he hears jeremiah’s chair squeak as he gets up and follows.

 

all they have left breakfast related are frozen waffles, which jeremiah also eats plain. jerome obviously complains about it. once jeremiah has finished a cup of black coffee and two waffles, he looks like he is about to fall back asleep.

 

“did you even sleep? cause it looks like you didn’t,” jerome asks slightly concerned. jeremiah doesn’t look at him.

 

“after you fell asleep, i got up at around four and started working.” jerome opens his mouth and furrows his brows, ready to reply. “i couldn’t sleep after seeing you like that.”

 

jerome loses any response he had, watching his twin stand up and put away his dirty dishes, ready to leave the kitchen.

 

“go to bed, miah,” jerome says, turning around to see jeremiah paused in the doorway. he walks up closer behind him. “you need more sleep, or you’re gonna drive yourself insane.”

 

jeremiah’s shoulders are hunched, and jerome has a feeling his fingers are being twisted together painfully. “i’ll try.”

 

jerome takes in a deep breath. “that’s all i ask.” jeremiah leaves the kitchen, and jerome hears a door shut quietly down the hallway.

 

jerome decides to shower quickly, and puts on a pair of black jeans and a maroon t-shirt, ruffling out his wet hair so it doesn’t dry flat.

 

he can’t stop worrying about jeremiah.

 

sure, jerome knows he has also been a bit, well, _off_. but jeremiah isn’t sleeping, is trying to distract himself from the sudden insomnia by working himself to death. jerome wishes his twin was a party type. it’s exactly what he needs.

 

maybe he can convince him to get plastered sometime this week. maybe he can invite bruce, and have a private birthday party. jerome has a feeling jeremiah is going to agonize about not being able to celebrate for bruce, to be a part of something fun.

 

that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

 

jerome wonders if bruce smokes weed. that would be interesting.

 

he remembers suddenly that he needs to text bruce, and looks for his phone by bis bed. he unlocks it to find bruce has already sent a text.

 

-i will be picking you up at 7 tonight. we will drive my car back to my place and get a cab to the club. i’m sure you want to get home safely. -

 

jerome chuckles at the message, before thinking of another question.

 

-that sounds great but i cant take a cab back home. miah would hate that. some weirdo knowin where we live and all that -

 

he sends the text, and realizes a little too late that it sounds like he’s suggesting a sleepover, and quickly types out an after thought text.

 

-could probs drop me off close to home and ill walk. ill make it home eventually lol -

 

he sighs and walks out of his room and stops at jeremiah’s door. his phone buzzes.

 

-we will figure something out. i’m sure alfred can help if necessary. -

 

jerome knows bruce has mentioned this ‘alfred’ before, but he really has no idea who the guy is or if he can trust him. he supposes if bruce does, there’s a possibilty he’s a trustworthy guy.

 

he decides not to answer immediantly and opens jeremiah’s door a bit to peek inside.

 

his heart melts a little, he thinks.

 

jeremiah looks peaceful for once, in a disasterous sort of way. he’s sprawled out on his stomach, latched onto his pillow, snoring softly.

 

jeremiah was really fucking tired.

 

jerome can understand it. growing up where and how they did, sleep was hard to come by. being asleep left them vulnerable, to the real world and the nightmares their minds would create. jerome struggles some nights to sleep himself.

 

but he doesn’t intentionally stay awake like jeremiah does.

 

he enters the room and slowly sits down on the floor next to the bed. jeremiah’s freckles are much less prominent than his own since he doesn’t get any sunlight, and his skin is quite a bit paler. jeremiah’s hair is also a darker shade of orange, with no bleaching from the sun, reminding him of rusty metal.

 

it’s hard remembering they are two different people.

 

being this close to him as he sleeps without a care reminds him of another memory that he doesn’t often think about.

 

there was time he wanted to kill jeremiah.

 

not because he hates him, no, he just simply thought the world didn’t _deserve_ him. no one would ever appreciate and care about jeremiah as much as he did.

 

no one could ever love jeremiah more than he does.

 

so why let the world hurt him? why let _anyone_ have him?

 

it was a terrifying phase, one that he knows jeremiah is aware of, but it is something they never speak about, something they never have spoken about. the probably never will, jerome thinks.

 

jerome definitely wants to get shit-faced tonight.

 

he checks the time on his phone to see it’s only one thirty-seven. he has no idea what he’s going to do for the next six hours. 

 

he supposes he could also nap. it is the best time killer, after all.

 

jerome stands up and is about to leave, when he thinks maybe he doesn’t have to. he is probably crossing a line, but he figures he can’t know if a line is there if he doesn’t try to cross one.

 

jerome doesn’t think he’s making much sense anymore.

 

he sets his phone on jeremiah’s nightstand and very carefully crawls onto the bed. jeremiah doesn’t even move. he slowly lowers himself down, head resting gently on the same pillow jeremiah is clung to, and slips under the blanket swiftly.

 

jeremiah’s eyebrows furrow for a second, before his face relaxes again. jerome doesn’t lay too close, doesn’t want to wake up his twin, despite the strange urge to be as close as possible. cuddling isn’t worth being murdered for, he decides.

 

jerome rolls onto his right side to face his twin and closes his eyes, attempting to match their breathing.

 

he wishes he could feel his heartbeat.

 

jerome debates whether or not he should try to find a hand capable of being held, and he quickly finds that jeremiah’s left hand is under the pillow, but his right hand is very much capable of being held.

 

will it wake him up? will jeremiah kill him for holding his hand? his twin likes his hand to be held, but he certainly does not like to be woken up.

 

he can be sneaky, he tells himself.

 

he slowly reaches out his left hand and rests his fingertips on the top of his twin’s hand, who doesn’t react at all. so far, so good, he thinks. he moves his right hand up and very, very carefully starts to slide it under jeremiah’s hand.

 

his fingers twitch as jerome successfully slides their fingers together, palm to palm. he smiles victoriously and closes his eyes, slowing down his breathing. he focuses on their hands and patiently waits.

 

he feels the soft, barely there heartbeat, and relaxes into the bed.

 

jerome’s mind jolts to awareness at a loud rumble next to him. he’s warm and sleepy and doesn’t even care what the rumble noise was. he groans and feels shifting in the bed.

 

he becomes aware of the legs tangled with his and the hands gripping the shirt across his chest, and realizes his own arms are wrapped around a body. he blinks.

 

he hadn’t already partied and ended up in someone’s bed, had he?

 

and then jerome remembers jeremiah’s sleeping face, and deciding on a nap before the party, and feels relief flood him. the rumble that woke him was probably his phone buzzing on the nightstand, and he tries to think of a way to grab it without disturbing jeremiah.

 

“you can check that,” he feels it as much as he hears it, the vibrations on his neck where he supposes jeremiah’s face is. jerome sighs.

 

“i was trying to _not_ wake you up for once,” he removes his hand from jeremiah’s waist and reaches blindly behind him, feeling the nightstand. he finally feels his phone and brings it around in front of his face, cringing at the brightness.

 

he sees a yellow snapchat notification, with the words ‘bruce wayne added you!’ and smiles. he opens it and adds him back, and looks at the time. it’s almost five o’clock, which leaves him with two free hours. he supposes he could make dinner.

 

he opens the camera section and purses his lips and decides to definitely take advantage of the situation. he raises his phone up and smiles widely at the sight of jeremiah trying to sleep cuddled up to him.

 

he snaps a picture and saves it to his memories so he can save it to his phone later.

 

his phone buzzes again, and its a text from bruce.

 

-are you eating at home?-

 

he thinks about asking bruce out to dinner, but then wonders if he should invite him here instead. or maybe bruce is going to invite him to dinner?

 

why is he thinking so hard about this?

 

“you still awake?” he stage whispers to his twin, who groans in response. “would you be mad if i invited bruce over for dinner for his birthday?”

 

jeremiah takes a deep breath. “why would i be mad?” he asks, moving his face away from jerome’s neck. jerome does his best to shrug. “am i also invited?”

 

“well, duh,” jerome smiles and starts typing his reply.

 

-only if you want to eat with us-

 

he sets his phone down on the bed behind jeremiah and closes his eyes. jerome has no idea what’s in store for tonight. he keeps thinking back to the moment on the couch, and he has a very strong feeling his urges are reciprocated by bruce.

 

a part of him his hoping something, _anything_ , happens between them tonight. he hopes he can remember it by the next morning.

 

he’s not the kind of drunk that completely blanks the next day, and he’s found that it’s both a blessing and a curse. he tries not to come home drunk too often because jeremiah doesn’t like it, and he can understand why. on the nights he does forget, it means he drank way too much or something way too strong.

 

“what are you going to make?” he hears jeremiah say quietly. he opens his eyes to find jeremiah’s are still closed.

 

“no idea. i guess i should ask what someone like him would eat.” jerome grabs his phone and opens it again.

 

“someone like him?” jeremiah asks, obviously confused by the words.

 

“someone rich who has a butler to make his food,” jerome says, typing out the question and hitting send, before setting it down again. jeremiah hums in slight understanding. “you gonna shower today? it’s been, like, a week.”

 

jeremiah scoffs loudly with a small smirk. “it’s been two days, you drama queen.” jerome smiles at successfully getting jeremiah in an okay mood after waking up. his phone buzzes.

 

-i would love that. i’m not a picky eater. how is jeremiah? -

 

jerome smiles.

 

-great. he just woke up so a lil grumpy but happy to have u over anyway -

 

he knows jeremiah would be incredibly embarrassed if he knew he told bruce that, but it’s worth the smile that’s probably on bruce’s face right now.

 

“well, we should probably get moving then. bruce is coming over for dinner,” jerome says it, but doesn’t really make an effort to move away. jeremiah sighs and rolls away onto his back. jerome ignores how cold he gets and sits up, ruffling his hair and stretching his arms.

 

“i’m going to shower,” his twin stands up and drags his feet all the way to his door. “i’ll help you cook when i get out.” jerome makes a noise of a confirmation as jeremiah disappears. he checks his phone again, but bruce hasn’t answered.

 

jerome has the brief thought of _what if he’s underdressed?_ , but he doesn’t really care if he doesn’t fit in at whatever club they are going to. he will be out of place as it is. he just wants to get drunk with bruce.

 

when he gets to the kitchen, he starts rummaging through the cabinets for something passable as a real dinner. they’ve gotten used to only needing whatever jerome brings home as take out, and whatever is left over. they don’t cook often, and it’s not like they ever have guests to cook for.

 

bruce is changing a lot of things for them.

 

he distantly hears the shower turn off as he tosses a bag of potatoes on the island loudly. jerome isn’t even sure what he will make with them. mashed potatoes? baked potatoes? fried potatoes? he has no idea.

 

he opens the freezer, seeing if there is a type of meat in there, and only finds a half empty bag of pizza rolls, a barely eaten tub of chocolate ice cream (that he will definitely eat later), and a couple of frozen hamburger patties.

 

does bruce eat hamburgers? he did eat cheap, greasy pizza with them the other night, so he supposes it’s possible. do they even have buns? do they have condiments? do they seriously survive on the fast food jerome brings home? how does jerome even stay physically fit?

 

his mind is getting a bit frantic, and it is _not_ because he is nervous, it has _nothing_ to do with the excited anticipation for tonight, he just doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be _doing_ -

 

“jerome?” jeremiah’s voice has him jumping out of his fucking skin, and he grabs at his heart, spinning around with the box of patties in his hand, and stares wide eyed at his twin.

 

“ _fuck_ , miah, i think i just _pissed_ myself,” jeremiah raises his eyebrows with a smile forming on his lips. his eyes shift to the box he’s holding, and the potatoes on the island.

 

“do we have buns for those? or, like, ketchup? and what are you going to do with the potatoes?” and jerome almost sighs in relief, because hearing jeremiah voice the same questions makes him feel a little less insane.

 

“i don’t know, i’m just pulling things out of my ass at this point,” jerome sets down the box next to the potatoes. “when was the last time i even went grocery shopping?”

 

jeremiah moves past him and opens the fridge. “it was before my last visit with dr. thompkins, which was a little over a month ago.” jeremiah pulls out a ketchup bottle, mustard, and an almost empty jar of pickle slices.

 

jerome tsks and looks in the cabinets for buns. “you just saw her two days ago,” he points out, finding a package with two buns, and another package with three. he silently hopes they aren’t stale and tosses them on the island too.

 

“i meant before that,” jeremiah turns on the sink and gets ready to wash the griddle they used the other day.

 

“oh,” jerome says, his mouth staying in an ‘o’ shape. maybe he should keep a schedule for getting food. it’s a bit unhealthy to rely on pizza and chicken nuggets.

 

once the griddle is clean and heating up, and jerome has peeled three potatoes, his phone buzzes in his back pocket.

 

-can i head over now? that will give us about an hour and a half to eat.-

 

“hey, can he head over now? we can make him help us,” jerome says it with a grin, making jeremiah shake his head.

 

“if he even knows how to cook,” jeremiah freezes and jerome _laughs_ , head thrown back and potatoes forgotten. he laughs harder at the look of absolute devastation on jeremiah’s face.

 

“oh my god, that is _not_ what i meant, i just-in _general_ , not-not because he-“ jeremiah is stumbling over his words, but jerome is blown away.

 

“miah, that was the _best thing_ i’ve ever heard you say,” jerome wipes away a fake tear and pats his twin on the back.

 

“jerome, i swear to god, if you tell him i said that-“

 

“relax,” jerome interrupts, still giggling. “the sickest burn will stay between you and me, brother.” jeremiah sighs heavily. “probably.” he mutters it while turning away to continue with the potatoes. he feels what he thinks is a towel hit him in the back of the head, making him laugh again.

 

he tells bruce to come over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you thought of this chapter! i love your comments. they make writing feel worth it. ❤️


	8. the party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a hard one to write. i’ve never written anything before this story, so i hope my writing in this chapter expresses everything i wanted and isn’t awkward. enjoy.

when bruce texts that he’s outside, the burgers are still cooking noisely and the potatoes are still...nothing.

 

he jogs to the door and lets the teen in quickly, shutting and locking the door.

 

jerome has to calm himself before going back to the kitchen.

 

bruce is dressed as elegant as ever, with a thick, black and gray woven turtleneck sweater, and black slacks with blue hightops.

 

his hair is a little different though. it isn’t slicked up with whatever expensive ass grease he gets, but instead gently tossed and wavy, and jerome wants to run his fingers through it and fucking _pull_.

 

“it smells like burgers in here.” is the first thing bruce says, and jerome smiles.

 

“we’re still cooking,” he says, heading towards the kitchen with bruce in tow. “we have a bunch of potatoes, but we don’t really know what to make with them.”

 

as they enter the kitchen, jeremiah turns to greet them, and jerome wants to cry at the love-stricken look on his twin’s face.

 

“happy birthday,” is all jeremiah manages to get out before turning back to the burgers.

 

“thank you,” bruce replies with a small smile, looking jeremiah up and down.

 

huh.

 

jerome looks at his twin again, and notices why bruce might find it...different.

 

after his shower, he didn’t change out of jerome’s t-shirt, and is wearing what he thinks are also jerome’s sweatpants (and they are _definitely_ talking about the clothes stealing later), and he didn’t do anything to his hair. they both have naturally curly hair, so jeremiah’s is starting to curl up on the back of his neck, and probably around his face, too.

 

jeremiah has been a bit strange today, but he supposes he has been, too.

 

“so,” jerome starts loudly, “what the hell are we doing with these potatoes?” bruce looks amusedly at the six naked potatoes laid out on the island.

 

“we could just chop them up and fry them in the griddle?” bruce suggests, raising his eyebrows at jerome.

 

“that is an idea, and we are doing that,” jerome decides, already heading to the knives with purpose and determination. “bruce, darling, you are helping me cut these.”

 

“jerome, please be careful.” his twin begs him, already looking at him with a worried expression.

 

“you know i’m an expert with knives. you have _nothing_ to worry about!” he spins the knife around between his fingers dangerously, but elegantly. he enjoys the way jeremiah’s eyes are glued to the movement.

 

he grabs a second knife and sits at the island next to bruce. “an expert, huh?” bruce asks, curiousity obvious in his voice.

 

“oh yeah,” jerome states cockily. “i use to throw the shit out of knives when we were younger.” bruce nods, impressed. “used to practice with apples on heads. you know, the classic act.”

 

bruce looks up from the potato he was about to cut into. “and whose head did you put the apple on?”

 

jerome laughs darkly. “that’s not important,” he chops into a potato loudly. “not anymore.”

 

“the, um, the burgers are done, so,” jeremiah stutters out loudly, obviously not wanting jerome to continue with his knife stories.

 

“we will start putting them in the griddle as we go, then.” bruce helpfully replies, finally starting to cut the potato in front of him.

 

once they get the potatoes fried, and the hamburgers prepared for themselves, they start to eat. bruce has rolled up his sweater sleeves, naturally, and jerome can’t help but stare as the kid eats like a normal teenager.

 

bruce and jeremiah start up a conversation, mostly polite talk about how things are going, or whatever. jerome takes a moment to look at bruce’s hair. it’s nice, actually. he let loose a little bit. he’s still wearing an expensive ass watch on his left wrist, and his sweater is probably more expensive than both of his kidney’s, but his hair is, well, normal looking.

 

he remembers jeremiah’s own natural look, and looks at his twin’s tiny curls, and freckley arms, and his razor-nicked neck. jeremiah never really did get the hang of shaving. jerome can’t help but wonder why it’s only his neck he struggles with. his cheeks and jaw always look soft, maybe a little chubby. he used to grab them harshly when they were kids and make him cry angrily.

 

he wonders what jeremiah would do now if he grabbed his cheeks.

 

he shoves the last bite of his burger in his mouth, enjoying the look of disgust jerrmiah throws in his direction, and wipes his hands on his jeans.

 

“i can always take a look if you need me to. i don’t know much about your generator yet, but it would at least be a new pair of eyes.” jerome has to take a second to catch up with what they are talking about.

 

“oh, no,” jeremiah says, shaking his head. “it’s your birthday, and you have plans tonight.” jerome raises an eyebrow.

 

“another night, then?” bruce asks, looking over at jerome questioningly. jerome looks back and forth between the two, and finally catches on to the question they aren’t asking.

 

“oh! yeah, of course. i need to go grocery shopping very, _very_ soon. you can keep him company while i’m gone.” jerome says it, but he looks at jeremiah with raised eyebrows, shoving a fried potato into his mouth.

 

“yes, that-that sounds good,” and jeremiah’s cheeks are turning a dusty pink as he looks down at the little food left on his plate. he looks over at bruce, who is also looking down at his plate with a smile, stabbing at a potato.

 

“perfect. just let me know,” bruce suddenly sets down his fork and looks up at jerome. “i almost forgot!” he stands up, catching the confused attention of both twins. he pulls out a phone from his back pocket.

 

“this is for you,” he sets it on the island and slides it closer to jeremiah, who looks shocked. “i said i’d get you one. for business, of course. i figured it would also be helpful for when jerome is out.” jerome nods in approval, a smile growing in his face.

 

“bruce-“

 

“it’s also can’t be traced back here,” bruce interrupts. “i have a friend who is very good with technology.” bruce looks very calm, with a hint of pride, and jerome is very, _very_ excited.

 

“thank you, bruce,” jeremiah sounds dazed as he gently picks up the slick plack smartphone.

 

“you can unlock it with your fingerprint, and you can chose any finger you’d like. i can show you everything about the phone when i come keep you company, if you want.” bruce is still calm, like this isn’t a big deal, but for jeremiah, it is. he’s never owned a phone, never could afford it before, and jeremiah was too afraid of being tracked.

 

he sometimes lets jeremiah play word games on his phone, or will show him a song or two. sometimes jeremiah asks jerome to play him a song when it’s too quiet in his head. now he can do things on his own.

 

bruce just made a stupidly simple, and somewhat forgotten, wish come true.

 

“oh my god, we are _definitely_ competing on this word game i have,” jerome says excitedly, and jeremiah almost smiles, and he really wishes his twin would just smile, but the happy flush on his cheeks makes up for it.

 

“i think i left the charger at home though, of course,” bruce says, smiling a little.

 

“i’m sure mine will work with it,” jerome reassures him. “here, let’s go check that out, and then me and you can head out.” he stands up, and so does jeremiah. bruce sits down again, and jerome doesn’t say anything, glad that he understood what he meant.

 

they head down to jerome’s room, jeremiah’s eyes trained on the phone screen already looking through the settings. jerome swings open his door and heads to his charger plugged in by his bed.

 

“gimme,” he says, his hand reaching out. jeremiah wordlessly gives it to him, and jerome plugs it in successfully. “yep! we can share a charger until he gets yours for you.”

 

he smiles at jeremiah, before something clicks. “i wonder what your number is. here,” he unplugs it and hands it back to jeremiah. “put in my number and send a text.”

 

jeremiah sits down next to him on his bed and clicks the green phone icon. after the number is typed, he pauses.

 

“oh, right. just hit the call button instead, works just the same.” jeremiah does, and after a few seconds, his phone starts to buzz in his pocket. he hits the accept button and raises the phone to his ear.

 

“hello, hello!” he says theatrically, making jeremiah shake his head. there’s a happy glint in his eye.

 

jerome hangs up with a grin and saves the number in his phone as ‘miah’. he opens his text messages and sends a ‘hi’ to jeremiah. his phone dings loudly, making his twin jump a little.

 

“we can turn that off so it vibrates instead,” jerome gently takes the phone out of his hand. “this thing moves and turns off the sound. if you want it back on, just switch it again.” he holds the phone between them. “the message box has all of your texts.”

 

jerome clicks it and opens the text from his number. “if you wanna save a contact, just hit the ‘i’ in the corner, click the phone number, and then ‘create new contact’.”

 

jeremiah leans in a little closer to watch as jerome goes through the steps, and he saves his number as ‘broski’.

 

“i’m going to figure out how to change that later,” jeremiah jokes, and jerome smiles widely.

 

“well now you can text or call if you ever need me. ever.” he hands the phone back to his twin, who takes it somewhat solemnly. confused, jerome bumps his shoulder with his own. “i’ll send you updates tonight so you know i’m alive.”

 

jeremiah doesn’t respond, just stares down at the phone in his hands. jerome doesn’t know what to do with the sudden change in mood. he prefers the joking and the excitement, the thrill of something new and good happening.

 

“will you come home tonight?” jermeiah says it softly, almost pleadingly.

 

“yeah. yeah, of course. is that what you’re worried about?” jeremiah hesitates before nodding. jerome knows it’s a lie.

 

he lets it slide.

 

“i better get going, though.” he stands up and takes another look at his twin. “hey,” he says, making jeremiah finally look up at him. his expression is blank.

 

“i like your curls,” he gently touches his hair for a breif moment before pulling away, watching jeremiah’s eyes blink rapidly. “come say goodbye to bruce real quick.” he starts to head out of the room, not hearing jeremiah immediantly stand to follow.

 

when he heads out to the kitchen to meet bruce, he catches the kid putting up the condiments, and the plates have been put in the sink. “oh, are you our butler now?”

 

bruce turns around, slightly startled, and smiles. “if you pay me enough, i’ll think about it,” he closes the fridge and approaches jerome slowly.

 

“careful, brucie. i might be serious.” he smirks, taking a couple steps closer as well.

 

bruce smiles. “you’re never serious, jerome.” his eyes linger on the kids lips, but when he hears jeremiah’s socked feet coming closer, he moves away. jeremiah enters without looking at jerome, with a light flush still scattered on his cheeks.

 

“time to go party,” jerome says exictedly, making bruce smile widely.

 

“don’t let him do anything too insane,” jeremiah says pleadingly to bruce. jerome scoffs loudly.

 

“i would never, baby brother,” he skips over and ruffles his curly hair, and bravely gives him a quick peck on the head. “let’s get outta here!”

 

“i’ll keep an eye on him the best i can,” bruce says politely, and touches his twin’s shoulder briefly. “i’ll make sure he comes home tonight.”

 

“thanks,” jeremiah says softly, and jerome hates leaving him alone, but jeremiah can text him, can call him, if he needs him. he will be okay.

 

“see ya tonight, miah.” him and bruce head towards the front door. he unlocks it, opens it for bruce, and closes it behind himself, locking it with the button outside the door. he takes a deep breath as he follows bruce to his expensive car.

 

he gets in the passenger seat of the sleek, black car, already having to ignore how out of place he feels. he’s only in the car, what is this kid’s house gonna be like?

 

jerome realizes as the car starts with a rumble that he will probably meet this alfred guy, and he doesn’t know if he should be nervous or not.

 

he stares out the window at the trees turning into buildings, and watches as the buildings turn into trees again. he wouldn’t have thought bruce lived so far out in gotham as well.

 

“and here we are,” it’s the only thing spoken the entire car ride. jerome’s jaw drops at the site of the huge gated entrance with a mansion behind it.

 

he knew the kid was rich and lived in a mansion, but seeing it in front of him has him almost speechless.

 

almost.

 

“jesus fucking _christ_ , you are rich,” jerome says with a huge smile, unable to take his eyes off the building as they drive up. “jeremiah would love this thing.” he gets an idea and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera.

 

“hey, you don’t care if i send a picture to him, do you? cause i’m gonna,” he raises his phone camera as bruce slows down and snaps a picture.

 

“i’ve never actually had a friend that was impressed by my house,” bruce says, laughing a little. “sometimes i forget there are people that don’t live my lifestyle.”

 

jerome sends the photo to his twin, and looks at bruce. “we lived in a one bedroom camper, so yeah, this is pretty cool,” bruce doesn’t reply, and turns into a garage that could pass as a second house.

 

he turns the car off and jerome practically jumps out of the car, starry-eyed.

 

there are at least six cars in his line of vision, and one of them has definitely caught his eye.

 

there is a black lamborghini right next to him, with deep, sparkling maroon accents that he almost can’t see in the dimly-lit garage. he hears bruce’s car door shut, and the locking sound echoes around him.

 

“i’m going to steal this car one day,” he promises, making bruce chuckle.

 

“a, uh, drunk accident.” jerome looks at him incredulously.

 

“accident? who the fuck buys a lamborghini by _accident_?” jerome can’t stop himself from running his finger tips across the hood and along the side.

 

“i guess a very drunk billionaire named bruce wayne.” he touches the maroon handle and sighs sadly.

 

“one day.” he says somewhat ominously. bruce laughs again and starts walking away. jerome reluctantly follows.

 

bruce takes him through a door into a kitchen that looks surprisingly average. it’s about the same size as his own, with a large island in the middle as well. it’s much fancier and sleeker, of course.

 

“alfred!” bruce calls out loudly, setting his keys in a bowl by the door. a man suddenly appears in the kitchen entry way, and jerome’s eyebrows shoot up.

 

“ah, master wayne. i see you’ve brought a guest.” the man is british, because of course his butler is british. he’s an older looking guy, but he still looks like he could kick jerome’s ass if need be.

 

“yes, this is jerome valeska. he’s jeremiah’s twin brother.” bruce says it like he has talked about jeremiah before, and the thought makes his stomach flip. a look of understanding crosses the man’s face before he’s practically expressionless again.

 

“welcome to wayne manor, master valeska. i’m alfred pennyworth, bruce’s gaurdian and butler.” jerome smiles widely and bows his head.

 

“i’d like you to call a cab here to take us to the club we will be attending tonight,” alfred nods his head.

 

“very well, master bruce.” he says, and exits, leaving them alone again.

 

“okay, this whole thing is kinda creepy,” jerome blurts out, posture relaxing as he runs a finger over the spotless, stainless steel stovetop.

 

“what do you mean?” bruce tilts his head, geniunely confused.

 

“i mean, the whole butler thing. it’s weird. and ‘master valeska’?” bruce smiles softly.

 

“sure, it’s his job, but he’s more like a father to me at this point. while maintaining professionalism, of course.” jerome nods at bruce like he understands, but he doesn’t, at all.

 

jerome doesn’t have a father. or a butler.

 

“we should go to the main entrance,” bruce says, changing the subject. “that’s where the cab will be arriving.”

 

as jerome follows bruce through the house, he can’t help but feel odd. all of his moments with bruce, he has felt like he was the one in control. he supposes it’s a weird thing to think, but true nonetheless. now, they are in bruce’s environment, bruce’s element, and jerome suddenly feels like bruce has him wrapped around _his_ finger.

 

he’s used to the other way around.

 

not just with bruce. it’s what he does to get what he wants. he flirts, and charms, and seduces, and wraps them up with his signature smile, and before they know it, he’s stolen things worth more than bruce’s small car collection.

 

when they finaly reach the main entrance, jerome turns in a circle, taking in everything. the staircase is huge, and there are so many items on random tables. he has a very strong urge to break them.

 

“rich people have weird taste,” he mutters under his breath, staring at an oversized glass owl. his phone buzzes in his pocket. he pulls it out to find a text from his twin.

 

-that is a big house. i wish i could see it.-

 

his smile fades, feeling guilty, before an idea slips into his head.

 

“hey, you wouldn’t happen to know if there are blueprints of this place, would you?” his voice echoes in the big room, catching him off gaurd.

 

“i know they are in the library somewhere,” bruce replies, a smile slowly forming. jerome smiles back.

 

a horn honks outside, so jerome quickly sends a reply.

 

-ill hook ya up with blueprints-

 

bruce holds the giant front door open for him and thanks him dramatically. he decides to hold the cab door open for the kid in return.

 

“thank you,” bruce climbs in, and _oh_ , its hitting jerome what they will be doing tonight. he gets in and feels the energy slowly fill him the whole ride.

 

when they arrive at the club, jerome smiles.

 

it looks like any other club. thank _god_.

 

when they head inside, the music is perfectly deafening, and its filled with people who have got to be far too young to drink. in fact, almost everyone here looks to be around bruce’s age. he supposes that makes sense.

 

jerome spots a few groups scattered around that are definitely older than he is, and feels less creepy as bruce takes them straight to the bar, where the bartender greets him excitedly.

 

“happy birthday, mister wayne!” the man shouts across the bar. “what can i get for you?”

 

bruce looks at jerome quickly before shouting back. “two happy birthday martinis, please.” jerome cocks an eyebrow.

 

“what the hell is that?” jerome says, already moving in close to him. bruce smiles at him.

 

“its vodka, pomegranate juice, and sugar. a sweet start to the night,” the two drinks are set on the bar in front of them. “and the name is fitting.” jerome smirks and raises the glass.

 

“happy birthday, kid.” they clink glasses and take sips. jerome blinks. “that’s sweet, but still burns. i like it.” bruce looks proud, like he’s the one who made the drink.

 

“i’m a vodka person.” bruce admits, scanning the people dancing around them. jerome licks the sugar off of his own lips.

 

“so am i. that works out for us, then, doesn’t it?” bruce turns his attention back to him, and raises his hand to the bartender.

 

“lets be stupid, then,” the bartender is back with them, and jerome smiles widely. “vodka shots, please.”

 

“how many?” the bartender is trying not to smile.

 

“five, each,” jerome replies easily, already feeling the unsaid challenge. the shots are set out on the counter, and jerome is very fucking excited.

 

“can you even get through the first two, wayne?” jerome taunts, touching the first one in anticipation.

 

“try to keep up, valeska.” bruce taunts back, with amusment lighting up his eyes. jerome cackles.

 

“oh, brucie,” jerome lowers his voice. “keep talkin’ dirty. i like it.” jerome smiles darkly, bruce’s eyes lowering. the kid swallows hard before locking eyes with him again.

 

“ready?” is all he responds with, and jerome nods. they both pick up the first shotglass, and the bartender helpfully counts down from three.

 

jerome throws back the first one and swallows, revelling in the bitter burn, before slamming the glass upside down. he reaches for the second one, and barely lets the vodka hit his tongue. by the third, he finds the way to let it slip straight down his throat, the burning becoming more intense.

 

he slams back the fourth, and takes a second to breathe before picking up the fifth, taking it down as well. he slams down the glass, and realizes bruce did at the same time, and the bartender announces to them that it was a fucking _tie_.

 

but _wow_ , is jerome feeling a little dizzy, and he knows all of it is going to suddnely hit all at once, but it’s also going to happen to bruce, so whatever. bruce’s cheeks are pink, and he takes a sip from his martini.

 

“fuck, kid, you’re good competition,” bruce just smiles stupidly over the rim of his glass, and jerome decides to take a sip of his own, to hopefully drown the butterflies in his stomach.

 

a song comes on that jerome actually recognizes, the first few notes catching his attention. he smiles and bruce does, too. jerome downs the rest of his martini and sets the empty glass down, before grabbing bruce’s wrist and pulling him out into the mess of teenagers.

 

once they are surrounded, jerome feels hot, and his limbs are kind of heavy, but he can feel the song in his chest and he needs to touch someone. a redheaded girl in a green dress flips her hair at him with a smile, and jerome can’t stop his eyes from roaming over her.

 

a hand lands on his shoulder and turns him away from the girl, bruce filling his vision again, the kids eyes focused on the redhead.

 

“my bad, darlin’,” he says teasingly, bruce’s eyes snapping back to his. “i’ll keep my attention on the birthday boy.” bruce rolls his eyes, but keeps his hand on his shoulder nonetheless.

 

he can see the alcohol hitting bruce, how relaxed and happy he is. he’s never seen anything quite like it. jerome feels it, too, but he’s mostly just really heavy. he doesn’t recognize the song anymore, but it’s loud, and everyone seems to like it.

 

now both of bruce’s hands have made it to his shoulders, sliding easily to loop around his neck loosely, so jerome moves in closer, smiling as bruce does, too, their bodies swaying together but not quite touching.

 

when bruce looks at him, his eyes are glossy, and his hairline is damp, making his curls curly, and that isn’t the most intelligent thought jerome’s ever had. he lets his hands rest firmly on bruce’s waist, sliding down to his hips, pulling him closer, and the kid can’t seem to be _close_ enough.

 

their chests brush together, and jerome still doesn’t think it’s enough, and he realizes dimly that everyone around them is jumping, grinding, yelling. they probably stand out amongst the crowd, slowly swaying to different beats, but everyone is drunk. no one could care less.

 

jerome’s mind drifts back to the moment again, eyes refocusing on bruce’s closed ones. jerome tugs just a little more, and their hips brush together, and bruce inhales sharply, eyes opening and slowly blinking at him. jerome smiles when he feels one of the kid’s hands slide up the back of his neck into his hair, gripping it.

 

the song calms down for a moment, the bass practically disappearing, and jerome is drunk, _so_ drunk, and all he can see and feel is bruce fucking wayne. he looks at the kids mouth and grips his hips tighter, pulling him in closer, closer, _closer_.

 

the song is increasingly getting stronger, and it only makes jerome feel like he’s going to _explode_ , and bruce has decided to press himself completely against him and-

 

the song stops, and it’s silent, and _fuck it_ , jerome is drunk, so he kisses him-

 

and the bass and the beat and the song suddenly fills the room again, but all jerome can feel is the warm mouth pressed against his own, and the hand on the back of his head holding him there.

 

he slides his hands around bruce’s back, caging him in, bruce’s lips tasting like sugar and bitter vodka. he’s _very_ aware of his own arousal pressing against the kid, and he thinks he can feel bruce, too, and _fuck_ , jerome is getting dizzy, there’s not enough _air_ -

 

he pulls away for oxygen, and bruce _whines_ , jerome tensing as the noise goes straight to his cock.

 

“air, christ,” and jerome sounds like he’s dying, and he thinks he might be, and bruce finally opens his eyes. his pupils are blown, and his cheeks are a deep red, and the moment on the couch flashes through his mind. bruce says something quietly, but jerome can’t hear him, eyes stuck on swollen lips. “huh?”

 

“home,” bruce says louder, looking at him with glazed over eyes, hand still running through his hair. jerome feels the air rush right back out of him.

 

“okay,” he answers dumbly, letting bruce pull away. they wobble their way to the exit, and see a cab waiting outside. he thinks it’s their cab. they are taking it anyways.

 

he opens the door for bruce and they both practically fall in, and before the driver even gets a chance to pull away, bruce is pulling jerome back in, kissing him hard. jerome isn’t complaining.

 

he tries to keep in mind they are in a cab, but bruce makes it very difficult to not say and do obscene things. bruce keeps touching his hair, his face, his neck, his chest, and moaning into his mouth.

 

the cab stops suddenly, and bruce throws a wad of cash at the driver carelessly. jerome opens the door and stumbles out.

 

jerome thinks the earth is spinning faster than usual tonight.

 

as he struggles to keep up with the ground, bruce opens the door with agiggle.

 

jerome makes it into the house, miraculously, before groaning at the sight of the stairs. bruce giggles again, closing the door before grabbing his hand and dragging him along.

 

“we can make it, promise,” bruce says in a loud whisper, and jerome doesn’t know why the kid is whispering. “my bed is up here, and you’re totally gonna wanna get me there.”

 

the wording is utterly ridiculous, and jerome can’t stop the snort of laughter. bruce shushes him loudly. once he trips on the third step, he impulsively decides to just go up them on his hands and feet. bruce starts laughing, with tears in his eyes at the sight, and seeing the kid laugh like that makes jerome start up, too.

 

bruce copies him, and they both laugh as they climb up the stairs clumsily and stupidly. when jerome finally reaches the top, he flops down on his back with a smile. he has to close his eyes to stop the ceiling from spinning.

 

then he feels something hovering over him, and then he feels the weight of a body settle on his lap and two hands on his chest. his eyes blink open despite feeling like his eyelashes are a thousand pounds.

 

bruce looks serious again, and jerome doesn’t like serious, so his hand reaches up and touches the teen’s lips, whispering roughly, “why so serious?”

 

bruce blinks, and leans down to mold their mouths together messily. jerome smiles and bites down on bruce’s bottom lip, making him hiss and grip jerome’s shirt in his hands. he grabs at bruce’s hips and lets his hands slide down his thighs, and back up again. the kid rocks his hips a little, and jerome groans, sliding his hands under bruce’s sweater, feeling the warmth of his soft skin, and up along his ribcage, and jerome _really can’t wait any longer._

 

bruce must feel it, too, because he pulls back and starts climbing off of him rather sloppily. it makes jerome smile again.

 

“bed,” is all bruce says as he manages to stand up again. jerome struggles to do the same as bruce opens a door and enters a room without him. 

 

jerome already doesn’t remember how they got to bruce’s house, but he’s very thankful they managed to.

 

he wonders if it’s a bad sign he can’t remember.

 

he wonders if bruce’s bed is huge, and fluffy, and rich.

 

jerome stumbles slightly into the room, closing the door behind him, and locking it with a soft click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow a cliffhanger, how surprising. ha. also i was hella inspired for curly haired jeremiah after cameron monaghan posted a selfie with curly hair. i died.   
> but i wanted input before continuing!  
> how do you guys reading this feel about smut? are you comfortable reading it? do you care how explicit it is? or if it’s kind of vague? i haven’t ever written it, and i’m still unsure of how to go about it. please let me know how ya feel about it. thank you for reading. ❤️❤️


	9. the text

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go. i feel like this one is kind of short, but i hope you all enjoy it!

bruce has just taken his shoes off when he finally gets in the room, and he manages to slide his own off with ease while standing. and then, suddenly, bruce is back in front of him, and they are kissing again, and jerome is feeling _really_ impatient, but he’s too dizzy to do much more.

 

he moves them back towards where the bed is, and bruce turns them around, and gives him a little push. he falls to sit on the bed, and watches as bruce pulls his sweater up over his head, tossing it to the side. the moonlight from the window makes bruce looks so, _so_ pale, and jerome wants to _ruin_ him.

 

he pulls bruce to sit on his lap, and the teen kisses him hard, hands clutching at his shoulders. jerome runs his hands up his sides again, and wraps them around his back. bruce hums lowly before pulling away, grabbing at the hem of jerome’s shirt. he lets him take it off, watching the way his eyes rove over his scarred chest and shoulders.

 

bruce runs his hands down his chest in a sad sort of way, and jerome doesn’t like it, and he feels anger, feels hate for his mother, for doing the shit she did to him, so he pulls bruce back in again to kiss him, to keep his eyes off of his past. and then bruce leans in too close, and they tumble backwards, which isn’t such a bad position to be in.

 

jerome is starting to feel a little blurry, like a camera out of focus, but he can still very much feel bruce rolling his hips slowly on top of him, so he lets his eyes close and he groans.

 

he feels fingers at the button of his jeans, the way they fumble, and fail, before finally getting it undone. he smiles dumbly and opens his eyes to do the same, also failing a few times before succeeding. bruce clumsily moves around to get his slacks off before sliding down off the bed to pull jerome’s jeans off, and _fuck_ , jerome has to sit up a little to enjoy the view of bruce on his knees between his legs.

 

the kid looks like he is going to fall over any second, and jerome understands the feeling, briefly wondering if doing this drunk is a good idea. but then bruce crawls back up him in his black briefs, with his wavy hair, and his pale skin, and his mouth, and jerome can’t even think anymore.

 

it’s all a blur of touching, grabbing, pulling, and bruce is trying to keep in all the little sounds, and jerome _hates_ it. he thinks the teen will most likely forget most of what’s happening by morning. hell, he’s not even sure what _he’s_ going to remember. but he wants him to remember _something_ , so he bites at his neck, leaving pretty marks of proof in the morning.

 

at some point their positions flip, and jerome isn’t sure how he managed to do it, but bruce’s legs are wrapped around him and his nails are biting into his back, and he hopes there are marks there, too.

 

they get their briefs off, and jerome thinks he is going to die by the end of this. bruce bites his own lip hard enough to draw blood when jerome wraps a hand around him, and jerome licks at the blood, tugs on it with his teeth, does what he wanted to do on that damn couch.

 

bruce touches him, too, unsure and awkward, and jerome wonders if he has ever even been with a guy before. if not, he is more than thrilled to be the first.

 

jerome is barely present anymore, eyes closed as everything inside of him builds up. he’s chasing release, and can tell by bruce’s sudden carelessness about how loud he is that the kid is on the edge. he leans down and bites at his collarbone, making bruce whine and dig his nails deeper into his back, dragging them down, pushing harder.

 

jerome kisses him, and he finally gets a hand in that fucking hair and pulls, and bruce _moans_.

 

bruce isn’t moving his hand anymore, probably too close to function, or too drunk, and jerome is getting there himself. he keeps a steady pace on bruce though, wants him to break, and jerome has an urge to wrap a hand around his throat, but he doesn’t know if that’s okay.

 

he moves his hand from bruce’s hair to his neck and lets it rest there, and the kid’s eyes go fucking hazy, and jerome just wants to come, so he wraps his hand around both of them the best he can, and bruce moves to hold onto jerome’s wrist and pushes. jerome tightens his grip on his throat.

 

the high pitched whine that escapes bruce as he comes is a sound he hopes he never forgets, and the image of bruce under him, his hand tight around his pale, bruised throat sends him hurtling into a memory of the past. the memory is there for only a second, but it’s enough to throw him off, and then he comes, squeezing harder as he rides out the euphoria.

 

jerome’s hand loosens and he rolls off to the side, not wanting to crush bruce underneath him. the kid’s eyes are closed, and jerome is certain he’s killed him, but bruce is still breathing harshly, so he supposes not.

 

jerome is so fucking tired, and dizzy, and he is very much ready to fall asleep. he lays there and listens as bruce’s breathing slows down.

 

but then jerome realizes that he has to go home.

 

he curses under his breath and rolls around until he sits up, trying not to disturb bruce. he probably shouldn’t just leave. maybe a note? _no_ , he thinks, _fuck writing while drunk._ he will text him. yeah, that sounds okay.

 

while his brain is on the subject of texting, he gets up and finds his phone in his jeans pocket on the floor and unlocks it. he texts jeremiah that he’s coming home, or at least tries to, and starts putting on his clothes. putting on a shirt while drunk is harder than taking it off.

 

jerome sends a text to bruce, hoping to get across that he had to go home for jeremiah, and not to be a dick, and gets ready to leave before he pauses.

 

he walks back and tugs the blanket out from underneath bruce, the teen groaning quietly. jerome covers him up, and proceeds to quietly sneaks out of the room.

 

then he sees the stairs.

 

he’s not too confident about this, and he can’t remember how he managed to even get up these things. jerome thinks maybe he should just go for it, and if he falls, try to be quiet about it.

 

he clings to the railing and takes the steps slowly, his eyes feeling heavy and his legs like merry go rounds. but, somehow, he makes it safely to the bottom.

 

“there is a cab waiting outside to take you home.” jerome jumps about a foot in the air and almost falls on his ass at the sound of a man’s british voice echoing around him. and _oh_ , jerome knows why bruce tried so hard to be quiet now.

 

jerome blinks at him a few times, not feeling even a little embarrassed about how loud bruce was, before the words catch up to him. “oh,” he says quietly, looking at the door instead. “thank you, mister butler man. me and, uh, brucie, we promised miah i’d come home, and i almost forgot, cause i was sleeping, ya know? but - but i remembered! so i am goin’ home now, i guess.”

 

the butler looks tired, and kind of confused, and a little irritated, and jerome _totally_ understands how he feels.

 

“right,” he says slowly. “get going then, master valeska. your brother is probably waiting up for you.”

 

jerome frowns deeply at the thought. “i sure hope not,” he mumbles sadly, walking towards to the door. “wouldn’t surprise me, though. hey,” he stops and turns back towards the other man. “you know who miah is. how do you know him?”

 

the question sounds suspicious and accusatory, and jerome didn’t really mean for it to be, but he wants to know what the butler knows about his brother. the man just smiles tightly.

 

“just what master wayne has told me, sir.” the answer is too vague.

 

“like?” he turns completely away from the door now, making it clear he doesn’t plan to waltz out without an answer. the butler straightens up his posture and unclasps his hands from behind his back, and jerome may be drunk, but he isn’t a complete fool.

 

“master wayne says he is an intelligent man who has a history with wayne enterprises,” the butler says, voice stiff. “and that he’s not like the one who tried to mug him at a gas station.”

 

jerome raises his eyebrows and can’t help but laugh.

 

“oh, don’t worry, i think he broke my nose that day,” he steps a little closer to the butler. “and me and my brother are more alike than bruce thinks.”

 

the man looks him up and down, and jerome laughs again, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach.

 

“goodnight, mister valeska.” he says briskly. jerome turns and fumbles with the door, swinging it open. he waves stupidly at the butler with a grin before exiting, closing the door behind him.

 

he spots that there _is_ actually a cab waiting outside for him and ponders what to do. he climbs in and decides to give the driver his address. jerome checks his phone to discover it’s already two in the morning and he has a text from his twin.

 

-be safe.-

 

he smiles and types his response.

 

-luv u-

 

he looks up to see that the trees have replaced the buildings, and they are almost there. he sits patiently.

 

when the house is in sight, he wriggles in his seat and reaches into his back pocket.

 

“pull over,” the driver looks at him confused in the mirror, but does as he’s told. jerome leans forward so his face is next to the driver’s. “you are never to come back to this address again, understood?”

 

“if someone asks, i can’t say _no_. this is my job-“ jerome flips open his pocket knife and brings it to the man’s throat, the snarky reply coming to a halt. jerome smiles.

 

“understood?” the driver nods stiffly, and jerome resists the urge to cut him, just a little, just enough. but he’s still drunk after all, and he could accidentally turn a simple cut into something much deeper.

 

instead he closes the knife and kisses the guy on the cheek loudly, throwing cash he stole from bruce into the passenger seat. he opens the door and gets out, realizing how fucking tired he his as he walks the short distance to the house.

 

he enters the passcode to unlock the door easily enough, and gets inside quickly to shut the door. he puts in the passcode again to lock it, and silently cheers at hearing all of the alarms go off with no mess ups.

 

he knows they would have caught jeremiah’s attention, so he drags his feet all the way to his twin’s bedroom, quietly cracking open the door.

 

when he pokes his head in, it’s dark except for a dim lamp across the room from his bed. jeremiah is curled up in bed, phone in his hand, still very awake.

 

“jerome?” he pushes the door open enough to fling himself inside. “this isn’t your room. you know that, right?”

 

“yep.” is all he says, lifting jeremiah’s blanket up and crawling under as well. his twin scoffs. “want to be with you.”

 

“why?” jeremiah doesn’t ask it rudely. his tone is soft and curious, but the question makes jerome feel guilty, and he knows _exactly_ why.

 

he pulls his phone and knife out of his pockets, setting them on the nightstand before scooting in closer to his brother. he can’t even bring himself to smile, and he hates it.

 

“j?” and he definitely hates that jeremiah doesn’t know what he did tonight, or maybe he does and doesn’t care, but even drunk, jerome knows that isn’t the case.

 

jeremiah doesn’t know a lot of things that jerome has done in the past. sure, some things his twin has _ideas_ about, but he has never asked if it was him, or where he was when certain things happened.

 

but there are things, like the journal, that he doesn’t know about, and he wishes he could just tell him everything. but he can’t. he closes his eyes and tries not to let his face give away the guilt. he’s sure jeremiah can feel it regardless.

 

jerome jumps a little when fingers touch his jaw lightly. he slowly opens his eyes, trying to get his eyes to focus on jeremiah, but he’s so tired.

 

“you look so serious,” he hears his twin whisper. “you’re never serious, jerome.” and jerome almost laughs, because those words sound so very familiar, but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t remember why it would be funny. instead he closes his eyes again and just lets jeremiah touch him.

 

his twin’s hand cups his cheek, and he can feel the tremble in the motion, like he’s afraid.

 

“i’m sorry for having secrets from you,” jerome hears himself whisper, and he wants to punch himself for talking at all. “i hope you forgive me when they aren’t secrets anymore.” jerome tries opening his eyes again, and feels worse when he sees the confused look on jeremiah’s face.

 

“i have secrets, too. everyone does, j.” he says it in a way that’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not.

 

“no,” jerome closes his eyes again. “you only think you have secrets.” jerome blindly reaches out for jeremiah’s face, and when he finds it, he moves his hand up to his twins hair. 

 

“i really like your curls, miah.” he runs his fingers through the tiny curls, trying to memorize how it feels in the hopes of remembering it tomorrow. he feels jeremiah’s hand slide down his neck to his chest, over his heart.

 

“go to sleep, j.” jerome hums in response and feels his mind starting to shut off, before he remembers something.

 

“you never said it back,” his voice is slurred, and his hand is sliding down to his twin’s neck.

 

“never said what back?” he lets his arm slide around his twin’s neck and scoots even closer the best he can. he can’t even get words out, can’t even think any words anymore.

 

before he’s completely passed out, though, he hears what he wanted.

 

“you are so strange, j,” it’s mumbled, and soft, before he says even quieter, “ but i love you, too.” he tries to smile, isn’t really sure if he does, and lets himself fall asleep.

 

-

 

jerome’s mind starts to become aware, and all he knows is that he _really_ needs to pee, _right now_ , but then the headache hits him like a brick to the face, and instead he just groans. his mouth feels so dry he isn’t sure he even has spit to swallow, and he doesn’t know why he continues to get drunk, because it never fails to make him feel like hell the next morning.

 

he sits up slowly, and he doesn’t bother looking for his phone. he just needs to get to the bathroom. when he stands though, he feels the turning of his stomach worsen and he _definitely needs to get to the bathroom_.

 

he hurriedly stumbles out of his bedroom and into the bathroom, and falls to the ground to throw up. the way it burns his throat has his eyes watering, but once it’s over, he feels fine, and wipes at his mouth and eyes harshly.

 

he flushes, and stands up to finally pee, and notices a sharp stinging on his back. jerome doesn’t really remember much of last night, thanks to a bit too much vodka. vodka was the only thing he drank, on top of no food to help absorb it. he remembers getting to the club, and the birthday martinis, and ordering shots. the rest is a bit fuzzy, and he’s not even sure if he remembers things right.

 

jerome flushes and washes his hands, and also brushes his teeth vigorously, before curiousity gets the better of him. he lifts up his crumpled t-shirt and turns at an awkward angle to look at his back and - oh.

 

 _oh_.

 

jerome supposes he got lucky last night, and he made the other person _very_ happy, considering the welted scratch marks on his back. they start on his shoulder blades and curve around the back side of his ribs.

 

he squints his eyes and tries really hard to remember, but he just doesn’t quite have it in him yet. it’s too early, and he needs food, and probably some water.

 

jerome opens the door and heads towards the kitchen, dimly wondering what time it is. he rounds the corner to see jeremiah sitting quietly at the island with his phone and a cup of coffee.

 

coffee sounds better than water.

 

jeremiah looks up at him with a mostly blank expression, which is pretty normal, but today it makes jerome uneasy. he isn’t sure why.

 

“how are you feeling?” his twin asks, still wearing jerome’s t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday.

 

“head hurts,” he grumbles, grabbing a mug and pouring lukewarm coffee into it. “and my back, which was unexpected.” he turns and walks back to the island, setting down the mug to open the fridge.

 

“your back?” jeremiah asks, confused and a little concerned. he finds the french vanilla creamer and closes the fridge, setting it down to look for the sugar.

 

“yeah, i guess i didn’t come straight home last night,” jerome gets a spoon and puts three spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee, before pouring in enough creamer to change to color from black to a light tan. “made a pit stop at someone’s house.”

 

in his peripheral, he notices jeremiah stiffen a little.

 

“do you remember last night?” the way he asks it makes him wonder if it’s a bad thing he can’t remember.

 

“not really, no,” he puts the creamer back in the fridge and starts stirring his coffee. “i remember getting to the club and getting a couple drinks.” he stops stirring and raises the coffee to his lips, taking a much needed drink of the sweet caffeine.

 

“oh, i also remember this redhead waving at me,” he smiles at the memory, but it doesn’t feel quite right. jerome looks at his twin, who isn’t looking at him, and is instead staring into his coffee mug. “i don’t know, i really can’t remember. i’m not even sure how i got home. i just woke up this morning in my bed.”

 

jeremiah does look up when he says that. “you woke up in _my_ bed, actually.” jerome blinks.

 

“my eyes weren’t really open this morning,” he says it with a slight laugh. “more worried about making it to the bathroom.”

 

“so you don’t remember last night at all? even after coming home?” jerome just shakes his head and shrugs. why is jeremiah so curious about whether or not he remembers?

 

jerome watches supsiciously as jeremiah takes a long sip from his mug. he does question why he would have been in jeremiah’s bed last night, and if jeremiah was also in jeremiah’s bed last night, and then jerome feels brief panic before looking at his twin in confusion.

 

“wait, i didn’t,” he pauses dramatically. “with _you_ , did i?”

 

jeremiah chokes on his coffee and almost spills the mug trying to set it down, his eyes wide and incredulous. jerome laughs.

 

“why would you even _ask_ me that?” the pitch of his voice is high and very confused, but jerome is quick to defend himself.

 

“hey, you _are_ very curious on whether or not i remember last night, and i woke up in _your_ bed with obvious signs that i had sex last night,” jeremiah rubs at his eyes under his glasses with a sigh.

 

“first of all, you woke up with clothes on. second of all, it’s not like _i_ was drunk last night. and third of all, why was _that_ your first thought of what _possibly_ could have happened last night?” jeremiah looks at him flabbergasted, and jerome just starts laughing again. 

 

“yeah, okay, you have good points.” he takes another sip of his coffee. “why do you want to know if i remember last night so bad then? why did i crawl into your bed instead of my own?”

 

when jeremiah rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer, jerome starts to feel a little bit of panic again, except this time it lasts a lot longer than two seconds. he stands up straighter and just keeps staring at his twin, who still isn’t looking at him.

 

“it’s not like you spilled any of your dirty secrets, jerome,” jeremiah says with a sort of bitterness to his voice. “you just let me know you definitely have some and-“ he stops abrubtly, and _oh_ , jerome needs to know what kind of things he brought up last night.

 

“you just- you hinted at things in a way that was unsettling, but you didn’t actually say anything.” jerome can tell instantly that that isn’t completely true, and he can tell jeremiah is aware of that. his twin deflates a little. he always does.

 

“you said that i,” he pauses again, like he’s uncomfortable. jerome clenches his jaw nervously. “that i only _think_ i have secrets. and that you hope i don’t - i don’t hate you when everything comes out.”

 

jerome freezes, but quickly tries to act normal about it, like it isn’t something to be concerned about. “well, i’m a happy conversationist when drunk,” he says sarcastically, taking his time on the next sip of coffee.

 

“what did that mean?” jeremiah asks softly, almost like he’s afraid to know. jerome understands.

 

“i was drunk,” he says simply. “everyone has secrets, miah.”

 

his twin looks up at him with a blank face again, and jerome does his best to not break. he smiles and shrugs.

 

“i should shower,” he says calmly, downing the rest of his coffee and sitting his mug by the sink. “definitely going to wait to go grocery shopping until tomorrow.” he dodges the question easy enough, but he knows jeremiah won’t be satisfied, and will most likely think about it nonstop.

 

jerome’s downfall of keeping secrets seems to have begun.

 

he makes his way to his bedroom and remembers that this isn’t where his phone would be, and goes to jeremiah’s room instead. the sight of the crumpled bed gives him an odd feeling that he ignores, grabbing his phone from off the nightstand.

 

jerome has no new messages, and sees that the time is nine thirty-seven, which means he did not sleep in as late as he would have expected after a night out. he opens up his text messages with the plan to text bruce and see how he’s feeling, but the last message he sent was at two in the morning, and he curiously opens the text thread.

 

\- sry gotta leve . miah but not u. not a dick prmise. txt u n mornin k -

 

jerome furrows his eyebrows at the very drunk text, and isn’t sure why he would have to text bruce that he’s leaving if they were at the same club. he shakes his head and goes back to the ones he sent to jeremiah last night, but there isn’t much. there is one saying messily that he is on his way home, and a dumb message saying ‘luv u’, all sent at the same time as the text he sent bruce. it makes sense, but he wants to know what time he actually got home, so he knows how long his little pit stop was.

 

it is rather confusing, seeing as he told bruce he was leaving for jeremiah’s sake. and why would he text jeremiah he was coming home if he was planning to go to someone else’s house?

 

with nice timing, jeremiah enters his own room, and jerome turns to address him.

 

“what time did i get home last night?” jeremiah shrugs unhelpfully.

 

“you texted you were on your way at, like, two in the morning, and then said ‘luv u’, and you were home probably five minutes later.” jerome raises his eyebrows and blinks, a bit shocked and very confused. “why do you ask? what’s wrong?”

 

jerome looks back at his phone and opens bruce’s texts, re-reading the message he sent, and oh, oh _no_ -

 

his stomach drops when he also notices that bruce read it at eight o’clock this morning, and has probably come to the same conclusion. jerome just shakes his head and gives his twin a tight smile.

 

“it’s disorienting not remembering an entire night,” he puts his phone back on jeremiah’s nightstand. “i’m gonna shower now, and probably take a nap after.” he brushes past his twin, but is stopped before he can make it out of the room.

 

“thank you for coming home.” jeremiah says, sounding genuine, but embarrassed at the same time, and jerome feels like his chest is caving in a little, putting pressure on his heart.

 

jerome thinks back to his last text to jeremiah, and how jeremiah didn’t answer.

 

why does it make his chest cave in a little more?

 

he doesn’t reply, just simply leaves and goes to the bathroom. jerome understands why he brought up the topic of secrets last night.

 

jerome fucked the guy jeremiah is practically in love with, and eventually he is going to find out. jerome just hopes he is the one to tell his twin.

 

he hopes he doesn’t fall into something he can’t get himself out of.

 

jerome tries desperately not to think of love as he closes the bathroom door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. so yeah, i decided on a mix of vague and graphic smut haha. still working on what i’m comfortable with skill related! if it’s graphic, it needs to actually be good writing, ya know? please give feedback and let me know if there are any mistakes! what do you think the memory was that jerome had? and how do you think jeremiah will find out?  
> love you all. ❤️


	10. the bruise and the scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a BIT long haha! BUT some warnings specific for this chapter.  
> WARNINGS.  
> there is some graphic-ish violence, and mentions of self-harm, self-harm scars, and abuse to humans and animals. i know it's in the tags, but please be cautious reading this chapter. it's a depressing chapter and could be triggering.   
> i hope you all enjoy.

jeremiah shouldn’t do it. 

 

he knows his twin has secrets, and he knows he has some (though he’s a bit worried about that now), but it’s killing him to know the secret happening right in front of him. 

 

jeremiah isn’t an idiot, and he knows jerome knows that, yet his twin still tries anyway. he almost doesn’t understand why jerome would think he would hate him over some secrets, but then jeremiah thinks of his own, and he understands. 

 

the face jerome made while looking at his phone as jeremiah told him what time he got home confused the _hell_ out of him. he wants to know what messages he was looking at. 

 

_ jeremiah shouldn’t do it.  _

 

but jerome left his phone right there, practically screaming at jeremiah to look through it. yet he likes to think he’s better than that, that he isn’t the kind of person to snoop. 

 

he stares at the phone on his nightstand. 

 

he sits on the edge of his bed and twists his fingers together, biting his lip. he looks back at the open door, and quickly walks over and shuts it. he walks back to the bed, but doesn’t sit, instead just staring at the phone. 

 

what if it has a lock? jeremiah can’t guess it. they may be twins, but jerome’s mind can be so random and unorganized that it would be pointless. maybe it’s the fingerprint lock like bruce was telling him about. are their fingerprints similar enough to work?

 

he walks back to the door and takes a deep breath. he isn’t going to do it. he can’t. he can’t break trust. 

 

but what if it’s about him? 

 

_no_ , he thinks, why would it be about him? jerome did text him last night, but nothing overly weird. sure, they don’t really say ‘i love you’, they haven’t since they were kids, but jeremiah is fairly certain that that isn’t it. so who did he text last night? 

 

who did he have sex with last night?

 

the question has been bothering him since jerome talked about his back. it gave him a churning in his stomach. his twin doesn’t always talk about his nights out, but will ocassionally mention a girl or a boy that he had a fun time with as an explanation for not coming home. 

 

jeremiah hates it. 

 

he looks at the phone again, wondering if the texts will reveal who he was with last night. is it explicit? is it vague? is that why jerome had to ask questions? 

 

_screw it_ , he thinks, walking back to the bed with purpose and picking up jerome’s phone. he hears the shower turn on, and knows now he has time, he doesn’t need to rush. 

 

he clicks the button at the bottom and the screen lights up. 

 

jeremiah’s heart skips a beat. 

 

his background is a picture of them, and it had to have been from the other morning, when they woke up together for the first time in years. he has his eyes closed and face pressed into jerome’s neck, who is smiling widely at the camera. he had no clue this photo was even taken. 

 

he hadn’t really thought jerome was a sentimental person. then again, he has kept that stupid purple bouncy ball for ten years. 

 

it makes him start to doubt what he’s doing all over again, but he supposes it won’t matter if he can’t even get into the phone at all. he takes a deep breath and clicks the button again. 

 

it opens. his heart stops. 

 

why would his twin leave his phone so vulnerable? what if he forgets it while stealing something and all of his information is just free to the world?

 

he looks down at the green message box, and pushes on it with a shaking thumb. jerome talks to a lot of people, but the top two conversations are with him and bruce. 

 

his heart is racing, and his hands are a little shaky, and he feels a nervous flush take over his face. he clicks on bruce. 

 

jeremiah furrows his eyebrows while attempting to decipher the jumbled message. did jerome leave the club early? did he leave with someone? he checks the time it was sent, and thinks that, no, he couldn’t have. it was sent a little before he got home last night. 

 

jeremiah goes back to his own name, and sees that the message saying he was on his way home was sent at the same time as the text to bruce. jeremiah doesn’t understand. 

 

how does that make sense?

 

maybe that’s why jerome is confused. jerome isn’t sure when he had sex. jeremiah goes back to the message to bruce. 

 

‘not a dick’? for leaving the party early? why weren’t they together during the party? if they were, jerome wouldn’t have needed to text him that he was leaving. but the timing is still off. you can’t logically have sex and get home within five to ten minutes. maybe jerome was with someone at the club. 

 

jeremiah doesn’t know much about sex, but he knows that some people are comfortable having sex in public places. it’s possible, but even then, why would jerome be freaked out by that? by his text to bruce? what conclusion did he come to when he read this message?

 

jeremiah blinks. his body freezes. 

 

_no_ , he thinks. _no, that can’t be it_. 

 

can it?

 

it’s not an outrageous thing to think. 

 

he does not want to think about that. he _does not_. 

 

jeremiah shouldn’t have done it. he should have minded his own business. he should have waited for jerome to talk to him. 

 

he locks it and sits the phone back down on the nightstand, hand shaking more than before. _it doesn’t matter_ , he thinks. 

 

it’s possible he’s wrong, and he’s thinking too hard about it. it’s also possible he’s right, and not thinking hard enough about it. 

 

he hears the shower turn off, but he doesn’t move. jeremiah isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to be feeling right now. 

 

should he be angry? he thinks he is. he feels tense and hot, but he doesn’t get angry often enough to recognize when he truly is. he hears the bathroom door open, and jerome’s bedroom door close. what if he’s wrong? then he would be angry about something all in his head. 

 

who is he even angry at? jerome or bruce? he doesn’t know. 

 

jeremiah needs to forget about it. 

 

it’s not like he can ask jerome or bruce about it, and jerome doesn’t remember last night, so bruce probably doesn’t either. maybe jerome is just as unsure as he is about it. 

 

he stands up with both his and jerome’s phone, and he heads to his twin's room, knocking gently on the door. he hears his twin say a muffled assurance that he can come in before he opens the door. 

 

he wasn’t ready to see the proof that jerome did, in fact, have sex last night. 

 

jerome still hasn’t put a shirt on, and he has pink, welted scratch marks down his shoulders and back. jeremiah swallows down any emotions he might’ve had. jerome would feel it. 

 

but then jerome turns around, and there’s a bruise on his left collarbone, above his heart, and jeremiah feels another ugly feeling, remembering that he put his hand on jerome’s heart last night to fall asleep, right on top of it, and he wants to dig his thumb into, make it _darker_ , make it _hurt_ -

 

_stop it_. 

 

he swallows harder, and looks his twin in the eyes, draining all emotion from his face to create a blank mask.

 

“what’s up?” his brother casually asks, like there’s nothing off about either of them. 

 

“i, um,” and _god_ , he’s already stuttering. “i was wondering if bruce could come over tomorrow if you do go grocery shopping.” his brother nods and picks a shirt up off the floor. jeremiah wrinkles his nose a little. 

 

“yeah, ‘course.” and jeremiah walks closer to sit jerome’s phone down on the bed, keeping a hold of his own. 

 

“can you give me his number?” jerome pulls the shirt over his head, and pauses to look at jeremiah in a way he doesn’t recognize. 

 

“yeah, i’ll text it to ya,” his twin sits down on the edge of the bed and picks up his phone. jeremiah feels his heart race, knowing he’s looked through his messages. 

 

he can’t help but wonder what else his twin is hiding in that phone. 

 

his own phone buzzes with a new text.

 

“did u ever find the way to change my name?” jerome asks with a smile. jeremiah opens the message and stares at it. he doesn’t actually know how to save the number from a text message. 

 

“no, but i figured out how to download the youtube app,” he says, handing the phone to jerome to save it for him. his twin takes it and pats the spot next to him. jeremiah swallows, and moves to join him stiffly. 

 

“oh yeah?” jerome starts pressing things. “did you find any of the songs i showed you?” jeremiah just nods, and jerome hands it back to him. the screen is ready to type in the contact name. 

 

jeremiah takes it and types in “bruce”, and hits done. 

 

“now you can text him yourself,” he looks at his twin, and can feel that his expression is blank again. jerome’s smile falters a little. he feels a little bad. 

 

“thank you, j,” he says simply. “i’ll, um, leave you to nap now. i’m going to work some more on the generator.”

 

“hey,” jerome’s hand reaches out to grab his wrist. it’s too much. “before you start working, i think you need to message doctor thompkins.” jeremiah freezes. “yeah, i didn’t forget about that, miah.”

 

“i’ll send an email.” he briskly stands up, freeing himself from jerome’s touch, something he never thought he would _want_ to do. but it was too much, like something he couldn’t stand to feel any longer than necessary. as he gets closer to the door, he can hear jerome stand up, too. 

 

“i know you don’t want to,” his twin says in a voice so gentle it makes jeremiah freeze, his body glitching like a bad video game character. “but you see her for a reason. so talk to her. when you _can’t_ talk to me, talk to _her_.”

 

jeremiah can’t move for a few seconds, trying to push down any guilt he feels. he leaves the room without responding. 

 

he heads for his office first, going to his laptop to start an email to doctor thompkins. 

 

he doesn’t give a reason, and he doesn’t ask, he just simply states he would like an extra appointment at an earlier date to talk. he hits send, and tries to stop the shaking in his hands. 

 

jeremiah needs a drink. 

 

he goes to his other office and pours a glass, downing it probably a little too quickly. it doesn’t really help. he decides to down a second one before he heads to the building room. 

 

jeremiah still hasn’t figured out what he’s doing wrong, what he’s missing. he sits down and just stares at the blueprints. he feels empty in a way he hasn’t in a long while, and yet he should have plenty to feel given the current circumstances. 

 

and yet he doesn’t feel anything. 

 

he doesn’t know how much time passes in complete, still silence as he sits at his desk. he lets himself feel nothing, basks in it, accepts it. 

 

he picks his phone up and sees that it’s already noon, meaning he’s made no progress during the three hours he has been in here. he takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes with a heavy sigh. he picks up his phone and opens his messages, clicking ‘new message’. 

 

jeremiah stares at it for a few seconds before typing. 

 

-hey, it’s jeremiah. jerome gave me your number. he plans to go grocery shopping tomorrow, so i wanted to see if you still wanted to help me while he’s gone.-

 

he supposes that’s as good as it’s going to get, and sends it to bruce. he doesn’t even know if bruce will want to come over. he never answered jerome’s text from last night.   


 

jeremiah stands up and heads out of the room, wanting something normal to drink. he’s hoping they have some dr. pepper in the fridge still. 

 

as he gets closer to the kitchen, he passes jerome’s cracked door, and can hear the music playing softly. it’s one of jerome’s favorites. he pauses to keep listening, closing his eyes like jerome always does to this song. 

 

jerome says this kind of music is called lo-fi, and that it is basically slower hip hop music.   


 

this song in particular is called angel, and jeremiah doesn’t know what the singer is supposed to be saying, but he enjoys the sound and the beat regardless. 

 

he wishes he could open the door and join his twin. 

 

but for some reason, he feels like jerome is off limits, which is strange, and probably all in his head. jeremiah isn’t sure he could hold himself together if he were with jerome right now anyway. 

 

he moves on and goes to the kitchen. 

 

he opens the fridge to find that, yes, there is still dr. pepper in there. he feels a small bit of joy at the sight, and almost feels relieved at just feeling _something_. he grabs a can and sits it on the island, opening it up and taking a small sip. his phone buzzes in his free hand. 

 

-of course. what time are you thinking? have you figured anything out on the generator?-

 

jeremiah swallows, not expecting bruce to make conversation with him. he’s never done this before. he barely had a text conversation with jerome. 

 

-no, i haven’t. i am more of a morning person. would around 9 work?-

 

he hits sends, and he thinks maybe he should have asked jerome what time he was going grocery shopping. 

 

-yes! that works for me. don’t worry, i’m sure we can figure it out.-

 

jerome is going grocery shopping at nine in the morning now, he supposes.   


 

he isn’t sure how to respond to bruce now, but he feels it would be rude to just not say anything back. he decides to be polite. 

 

-i appreciate you offering to help, bruce.-

 

he sits his phone down and waits, taking another long sip of his dr. pepper. why is he so jittery? they are just making plans. it’s nothing weird. his phone buzzes again and he quickly picks it up. 

 

-anytime, jeremiah.-

 

he feels his heart beat a little faster at that, but before he can respond, he gets a second text. 

 

-if you ever need anything, anytime, please let me know. that’s what phones are good for.-

 

jeremiah can’t stop the small smile the text brings to his face, and now he really doesn’t know how to respond. 

 

-you’re a good friend bruce.-

 

he sends it, but it’s followed by a bitter feeling. he almost forgot. 

 

almost. 

 

to be fair, jerome doesn’t remember any of it. bruce could be oblivious, could have no idea he had sex, and if he knows, how would he know it was with jerome? bruce could have interpreted the text the way he did at first. jerome was just texting him he was leaving the club early. 

 

jeremiah basks in the strange feeling that comes with the knowledge that bruce doesn’t remember what it was like to be with jerome. 

 

he wants to go back to his room, wants to crawl into bed and just forget, but his bed reminds him of jerome, of the simple fact he isn't there. he can’t. 

 

he takes a drink and sits it down, half empty, and goes to the bathroom. he will just shower. it’s a good place to waste time. he passes jerome’s room again, hearing music still. his heart aches. he isn’t sure if it’s his own feeling or jerome’s. 

 

he closes the bathroom door gently and goes to turn on the shower, hoping there’s hot water. he inspects his face in the mirror, seeing stubble again, and thinks he should try shaving after he showers. 

 

he _hates_ shaving. 

 

he doesn’t really like something sharp being that close to his neck. he’s not sure he trusts himself. 

 

but he also does not want a beard. so it’s necessary. 

 

jeremiah undresses and takes his glasses off, and glances at his slightly blurry reflection. he sees jerome. he sees what he wishes he could be. 

 

he turns away, climbing into the shower and closing the curtain, feeling the hot water sting his skin. he’s thankful for it. 

 

he washes slowly, not caring at all how long he’s been in the shower. what does he need to get out for? there’s nothing waiting for him. there hasn’t been a reason for a long time. he doesn’t know why he tries, or why he sees a doctor. nothing helps, and nothing ever will. 

 

jeremiah knows he is a lost cause. 

 

he looks down at all the marks of his past, of his failures, his own creation.

 

he touches the scar on his right collarbone, the too neat cut to match jerome’s. he doesn’t know how jerome got it, but it was the length of his finger, and he didn’t want them to be different. he wanted to be like his twin. he was eleven. 

 

he touches the deeper scar, a wound from their uncle. it’s only three inches long (jeremiah measured), but it was deep, so deep he could stick two fingers in to the first knuckle (jeremiah measured). it’s right below his last rib on the left side. 

 

the doctor in the town they had currently been in said he was lucky it wasn’t deeper and nothing important was hit. jeremiah had told them they had been messing around with knives. jerome was fuming, but stayed silent. 

 

jerome took the fall. mother was not happy. she was angry at them both. she scolded jeremiah, said he was too smart for this, and beat jerome for being so stupid, for being fucked up in the head. jeremiah had screamed and cried for his mother to stop, that it was an accident, but she was too drunk to care or listen. 

 

he shouldn’t have shoved their unclein the first place, and especially not  while he was holding a knife . but he had slapped jerome, and jeremiah had acted impulsively. jerome held him close that night. he didn’t blame jeremiah. they were twelve then. 

 

he goes lower, to his thigh, where he did what he urged to do, but was always afraid of being caught. he wanted to feel a blade pressing into his skin, but he wanted it to mean something. it’s small, but the scars are raised and somehow paler than his skin already is. 

 

he carved what he wanted his secret hideaway to look like. 

 

it’s nothing fancy. a small maze, no bigger than his hand on the upper half of his thigh. it’s intricate and took a very long time. he still dreams of the day he builds a home that only he and jerome knows the way in and out of. he was stupid to permanently cut it into his skin, but he was thirteen, and children often get confused, and emotions can be messy. 

 

a lot of his emotions were a mess. they still are, he supposes. 

 

he still has scars on his knees from falling down too often on the rocky ground. sometimes it was because jerome pushed him down. they were kids during those times, six or seven years old. it didn’t have serious consequences back then. the consequences started when they were nine. 

 

they both had a nasty habit, but for different reasons. it started when jerome caught a squirrel. jeremiah felt nothing as he watched his brother smash it’s head in with a rock. he did feel curious when his twin had pulled out his pocket knife. 

 

jeremiah had told him what every little piece was for, but he doesn’t think jerome really cared about that. he just wanted to kill it, tear it apart. jeremiah wanted to see. he had never seen the inside of a living (dead) thing before. 

 

it was bloody, and it didn’t smell good, but he got to see a heart, and lungs, everything, even if it was miniature. no one caught them the first few animals. 

 

all fun things come to an end, though. 

 

his skin has turned a shade of red due to the abuse of too hot water, and jeremiah thinks maybe he should get out now. he turns the water off and steps out, grabbing a towel and attempting to dry off. the bathroom is too humid, so he still feels wet no matter how much he scrubs at his skin with a towel. 

 

he wraps the towel around his waist and wipes at the mirror, figuring it’s time to shave. he sighs heavily. why does he bother? he should just let it go. jerome has let it grow before. not too much, but enough. it didn’t look horrible on him. 

 

it looked good, actually. _really_ good. maybe too good. 

 

it’s a look that suits jerome. it wouldn’t suit jeremiah. 

 

he picks up his razor and gets the shaving cream out, filling the sink with warm water. he slips on his slightly foggy glasses and sighs for what feels like the hundredth time. 

 

he starts patting shaving cream all over his cheeks and mouth, and moves down his jaw and half of his neck. he picks up the razor and easily shaves the sides of his face under his sideburns, making sure that they match. 

 

he cleans it in the water and moves on to his cheek area, slowly going back and forth between shaving and washing the razor. 

 

he’s on the left side, slowly dragging the razor down, when a knock on the door makes him jump, his concentration lost. he nicks himself right above his jawline, and he hisses at the sting. 

 

“you’ve been in there a while, and i gotta piss,” he hears his twin’s muffled voice, and stares at his reflection agitatedly. he’s still wearing his towel and he has shaving cream around only his mouth and down his neck. he sits the razor down and dips his hand in the water to wipe at the small cut on his face. 

 

his brother opens the doors gently, and jeremiah thinks he should have locked it, but says nothing as his twin enters the bathroom and stands behind him. he looks up in the mirror and sees jerome staring curiously. 

 

“what?” he snaps, and feels a little bad for being rude, but jerome doesn’t seem to notice. 

 

“why do you struggle so much with shaving?” jerome crosses his arms and tilts his head at the mirror. “your neck and jaw are always kinda fucked up.”

 

jeremiah looks back down and busies himself with washing the razor even though it doesn’t currently need to be washed. 

 

“it’s not like anyone showed me how to do it properly, jerome.” he sits the razor back down on the counter. “i know the basics, i know how to _do_ it, but i can’t- i can’t see what i’m even _doing_ on my neck, and my jaw is so _easy_ to cut-"

 

“just let me show you,” jerome interrupts with a shrug. jeremiah blinks at him. “i promise i won’t cut you or anything. i’m actually good at it.”

 

jeremiah clenches his jaw, hating that this is just another stupidly simple thing that jeremiah can’t do, but jerome can. jerome is better than him at everything important.  he sighs and closes his eyes. 

 

“fine.” jerome moves in closer and picks up the razor. “can i at least go put on pants? i don’t particularly like being this naked.” jerome smirks in a way that makes his cheeks heat up. 

 

“yeah, and i’m gonna finally pee,” jeremiah rolls his eyes and grips the towel a little tighter as he heads for the door. he gets to his room quickly, the air chillier outside of the bathroom. he puts on boxers and a pair of plaid sleep pants, but he can’t really put on a shirt with all the shaving cream still on his face.

 

he heads back to the bathroom, and hears the toilet flush, and figures it’s safe to go in. he isn’t exactly sure how jerome is going to show him how to properly shave his neck and jaw, but he couldn’t say no. he doesn’t know why he couldn’t say no. 

 

jerome glances at him as he refills the sink with water. “you look so goofy,” he says it with a big smile, and jeremiah doesn’t have it in him to be offended or embarrassed. he looks at his reflection and his eyes get caught on the scar on his collarbone. 

 

he hopes jerome doesn’t pay too much attention to it. 

 

“okay, do you want to sit on top of the toilet or the counter?” jeremiah furrows his eyebrows. “i’d personally prefer the counter, cause the toilet is so low.”

 

jeremiah understands now how jerome plans to show him, and it isn’t really showing him, it’s doing it for him, but he just swallows and moves next to jerome, lifting himself up to sit on the edge of the counter. 

 

jerome smiles at him. “i’m gonna do it, and kinda give you tips. you’re smart,” jerome picks up the razor and moves to stand in front of him. “you’ll catch on.”

 

jerome pushes his knees apart with his hand and stands between his legs. jeremiah just breathes and tilts his head up. he already wants this to be over with. 

 

he feels the razor on the lower side of his neck, and tries not to tense up. it glides up easily, but he starts to get anxious as it gets to his jaw. jerome does it quickly, though, and jeremiah doesn’t feel a sting, so he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. 

 

“see?” jerome says with a smile. “it’s easy if you don’t think too hard.” he can hear him wash off the razor. “you’re always thinkin’ too hard.”

 

“i think a perfectly good amount, thank you,” he mumbles it as jerome slides the razor up his neck again. “you don’t think enough sometimes.”

 

“yeah, i tend to be a bit impulsive, don’t i?” just wash, glide, repeat. he tries to focus on that. “i don’t always think about what comes after. sometimes i do, though.” 

 

the razor goes over his adam’s apple, and he has to actually stop himself from swallowing, and it’s no wonder he nicks himself. his body does things that lead to it. 

 

“sometimes i have plans, as you are aware of,” _wash._ and jeremiah does not like where this conversation is going. “but, i admit, i can be a bit, uh,” the razor slides off his jaw, and jeremiah doesn’t understand how it isn’t slicing him. “stupid. dangerously, impulsively stupid.” _wash._  

 

in his head, jeremiah goes through all the things jerome has done that he didn’t think about the consequences, or if it was going to hurt someone. he mostly grew out of the dangerous part. mostly. 

 

he wonders how impulsive it was to sleep with bruce. 

 

“you just need to have a steady yet gentle hand,” jerome says, the razor gliding up again. “if you’re gentle but not steady,” _wash._ “you’ll slip and nick yourself.” _glide._ “if you’re steady but not gentle,” _off of his jaw._ “you’ll push too hard, and nick yourself deeper.” _wash._ “done with your neck and jaw. let me down your mouth area. you’re probably doing that weirdly, too.”

 

jeremiah does feel a bit offended now, but in all honesty, jerome is probably right. he turns his upper half around and leans enough to look in the mirror. his under jaw isn’t speckled with blood. 

 

“so, your mouth,” jerome starts, leading jeremiah to face his twin again. “you just always wanna have your lips tucked in. like you have no teeth.” jerome demonstrates, and jeremiah imitates. “do you do that?” 

 

“kind of,” he replies, trying not to feel like a child. “not all the way.” jerome brings the razor up to his face, and jeremiah tucks his lips back in obediently. 

 

“well, the razor can hurt your lips, so always tuck ‘em in from now on.” jeremiah feels his face flush a little. he’s twenty-one years old and just now being taught how to properly shave. 

 

jerome stays surprisingly silent while he shaves around his mouth, and jeremiah is thankful. it’s not like he can respond, or even defend himself if necessary. 

 

though it does put him a little on edge. 

 

jerome moves in closer, probably only an inch, but it makes jeremiah tense up, makes his stomach twist. he knows jerome would have noticed. it makes him feel worse. he closes his eyes and tries to just breathe. 

 

then jerome touches his face. 

 

it’s gentle, but it makes jeremiah jump out of his skin. he’s very thankful his twin didn’t have the razor on his face because it would have been a _disaster_. 

 

“hey, sorry,” it’s a quiet breathy laugh, and it makes him feel _too much_. “just wanted ya to tilt back a little.” jeremiah keeps his eyes closed as he lets jerome tilt his head back where he wants it. he lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm his heart down. “didn’t mean to scare you.” 

 

jerome’s voice is still quiet, and it feels too intimate, and jerome is _still_ touching his face, and can probably feel that it’s heating up -

 

“there,” jeremiah’s eyes open as jerome moves away and washes the razor for the last time. “shaving part done.” shaving part? jerome lets the sink drain and grabs a wash cloth, and _oh._ jeremiah relaxes his lips and his posture in general, trying to be comfortable with what's happening. 

 

he watches silently as jerome get the wash cloth wet, and involuntarily opens his legs more for jerome to come back. he would be embarrassed by the action but he doesn’t think jerome notices. he never really notices those things. the little things. if he notices, he never says anything. 

 

it’s the kindest thing jerome could ever do for him. 

 

he lets his eyes close as jerome wipes gently at his neck and jaw,  and then his face,  the warmth a good excuse for the blush he knows is there. the cloth bumps his glasses a little, making him jump for what feels like the thousandth time. he can practically feel jerome smirking. jeremiah still feels like a child. 

 

the warm cloth disappears and jeremiah blinks his eyes open as jerome moves away again. 

 

“just gonna use my aftershave, cause i like it,” and _damn it_ , jeremiah has never used it, and all he can do is hope jerome doesn’t guess that. “and i know you don’t use it,” _damn it_. “because you never smell like me, and i’ve never bought you your own aftershave.”

 

jeremiah avoids eye contact as jerome moves back in, this time using a hand to scoot his legs apart again. jeremiah has seen the aftershave, but assumed it was just to put on to smell nice. jerome puts some on his hands, and the smell is pretty much exactly how jerome smells constantly. he’s not sure he can stand that. 

 

“you just pat it on gently all over where you shave,” jerome’s hands do just that, his actions gentle but his hands calloused and rough. “it has shit in it that cleans and closes up your pores so it doesn’t get infected, or something.” and yes, that makes sense. it explains why jerome never has any bumps or, as his twin said, a ‘kinda fucked up’ neck. 

 

he keeps his eyes closed, knowing jerome is close. he doesn’t want to look at him or see him this close. just feeling it is enough. it’s almost too much. 

 

“thank you,” he mumbles out, feeling jerome’s hands lingering more than needed. or maybe it’s just in his head. 

 

“anytime, baby bro,” and jeremiah sighs, preparing to snap at jerome like always, and he opens his eyes, expecting to see that stupidly knowing smile, but it isn’t there. 

 

jeremiah blinks. 

 

jerome is just looking at him, and for the first time in a long, _long_ time, his twin looks sad. but then jerome looks away, his hand pulling away, too, and for some reason jeremiah doesn’t let him go. he grabs onto his hand, and they both just pause. jeremiah doesn’t initiate. but he needs to do something, _say_ something. 

 

“you know you can talk to me, too, jerome,” he hates how robotic his own voice sounds, but he doesn’t know how to change it despite being genuine. “you always say it to me, and i always try to. and i know you’re bad at talking about the important things,” it makes jerome scoff. “but i’m serious, jerome.”

 

he can see his twin clench his jaw, pulling his hand away from jeremiah. it makes something hurt inside. 

 

but then his hand is touching his skin, is touching his right collarbone where the scar is, and he feels his body freeze up because jerome _noticed_ , jerome paid attention, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. so he just raises his hand and presses where he knows that damn hickey is on jerome’s left collarbone. he presses hard. 

 

jerome closes his eyes, like he’s been defeated, like he’s tired, and it makes a sick part of jeremiah happy. 

 

but he’s mostly just hurt. 

 

jerome has always joked that jeremiah is a machine, that he’s like a robot that is too smart for it’s own good. sometimes jeremiah agrees, sometimes it scares him how often he feels nothing when he should. 

 

but jeremiah sometimes feels so much love it _hurts_ him, and that’s the opposite of robotic. 

 

he loves jerome, more than words can ever express, but he also feels something close to love for bruce. the two people he cares about the most want each other, and it leaves him alone with too much love that he can’t give, and too much heartache to live with. 

 

he lets himself slide off the counter, aware that he is standing too close to his twin, but he doesn’t care. he presses harder on it, and jerome’s free hand tries to grab at his, but he stops pressing, stops feeling sad and pathetic. he feels anger. he feels jealousy. 

 

he needs to leave. 

 

jeremiah brushes past his twin, exits the bathroom, and closes his bedroom door behind himself. he lays down in his bed, taking off his glasses, and picks up his phone. there’s a text he missed. 

 

-i can’t wait. :) -

 

jeremiah thinks something breaks inside of him. 

 

jeremiah knows the thought of jerome and bruce together makes the ugly feelings of hot anger and jealousy rear their heads. he just hates that he’s unsure who exactly he’s jealous of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you thought! please!!! i love your comments and predictions and thoughts! what do you think will happen with jeremiah's next visit with lee? and how do you think the bruce/jeremiah visit will go with how unstable jeremiah is? thank you for reading, i truly love you all! <3


	11. the answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this is very long!! i posted something asking what yall would think of long chapters, and everyone answered that they would love it and to do what i felt comfortable doing. so! an almost 10,000 word chapter it is!!! i hope you guys enjoy the content and the stuff that happens. <3

jeremiah’s mind becomes aware when he hears the slight creak of his door, but he keeps his eyes closed and his body relaxed.

 

as his twin gets closer to him, jeremiah can feel the darker emotions mixing with his own, but he doesn’t think it’s dangerous, doesn’t think _he’s_ dangerous.

 

he feels the bed dip, and then a hand in his hair, and lips to his forehead, and the guilt hits him like a freight train through the contact.

 

jeremiah wasn’t expecting jerome to feel so strongly.

 

he thought jerome would feel a _little_ bad, or would make a few jokes that would make jeremiah want to punch him in his stupid, smiling mouth. but jerome is quiet, and guilt-filled, and sad.

 

the sadness gets him the most.

 

he’s only felt jerome sad twice, and they were understandable. jeremiah had felt sad, too. but then his twin stopped feeling sad during things that should have made him sad, and he realized that jerome didn’t want to waste time being sad, sad was boring to him. unnecessary.

 

he feels jerome get up, and hears his door shut softly, and his heart aches, and he knows that it’s both of them feeling it this time.

 

he has trouble falling back asleep.

 

-

 

he jolts awake at the sound of the door slamming shut, and panics even more when he feels the space next to him is empty.

 

“j?” he whispers it, his voice shaking. he hears yelling outside, and gets up cautiously. he pushes open the screen door and walks outside, the cold night air biting at his nose and cheeks. he sees his mother, his uncle, and jerome in the middle.

 

he watches as their uncle shoves at jerome, yelling about something, and their mother soon joins. jeremiah takes shaking steps closer to the chaos, knowing he probably shouldn’t. but he can’t just watch. not anymore.

 

as he gets closer, he can start to understand what they are saying.

 

“the freak was gonna let them out, i know it!” his uncle shouts, his voice sending a wave of agitation through him.

 

“why would you do that, huh?” their mother shouts in jerome’s face. his twin’s eyes catch his, and he looks calm in a way that is terrifying. “answer me when i ask you something!” she slaps jerome across the face, and jeremiah should be used to it by now, but the action still pulls a sharp gasp from him, freezing where he stands.

 

his uncle and mother both turn to look at him, his mother still fuming, but softening a little at seeing him.

 

“jeremiah, go back to the trailer.” and usually he would listen, would go hide, and apologize when jerome would come back. this time he just stands there, staring at his twin. his eyes are downcast, and jeremiah has a horrible feeling.

 

“jeremiah,” her voice is firm, demanding. “ _go_.” but he shakes his head, doesn’t dare leave this time. jerome looks at him, and he _knows_ , he knows what’s different this time.

 

jerome isn’t fighting back.

 

his mother turns back to jerome, fuming again at jeremiah’s sudden stubbornness. their uncle grabs on to the back of jerome’s collar, so jeremiah steps forward some more, never taking his eyes off his twin. jerome just watches jeremiah get closer.

 

“why do you keep going to those damn elephants? you gonna ride one outta the circus? if so, feel free. we’d be better off without you.” and jeremiah hates that their mother is so cruel, that she says such things to her own children.

 

“you’re nothin’ but a pain in our asses, kid.” their uncle shoves him away, further from jeremiah, and he starts to move towards him, when jerome’s voice makes him pause.

 

“then what are you gonna do?” and _no_ , _jerome_ , _no_ , _stop_ _it_. “ you’re boring. you _bore_ me. you beat the shit out of me, you punish me with your fucking soup, you starve me. the same shit every time. you. are. _boring_.”

 

jeremiah is frozen with fear, and the adults are too stupid to understand, will _never_ understand, that a bored jerome is a dangerous jerome.

 

“shut your mouth-“

 

“or what?” jerome tilts his head at their mother. “you already want me gone, so why don’t you just get rid of me? leave me behind the next time the circus leaves? now _that_ ,” jerome chuckles, and it sends a chill down jeremiah’s spine. “that would be exciting.”

 

“you’re a fucking nutcase,” their uncle steps away from jerome. “you think we won’t do it?”

 

“i don’t need to worry about sending _you_ away,” their mother says coldly. “i could send jeremiah away at any second, and there would be _nothing_ you could do about it.”

 

jeremiah feels his heart stop, and he stares at his mother incredulously.

 

“i could send him away from you, and he could live a normal life. he’s smart, and he isn’t a little _shit_ like you.” he sees the way jerome tenses up, something sinister in his eyes.

 

“i already have a nice, loving couple who would take him in, just like that,” she snaps her fingers, her voice mocking and smile cruel. “he’ll go to a nice school, and get a wonderful job, and he will _forget_ you. he will forget you, and hate you, and be grateful he got away from you.”

 

“i’d kill you,” everything falls silent for a few seconds, it takes another few seconds for the words to register, and _another_ few seconds to realize it wasn’t jerome who said it. his voice hardly sounded like his own, and he doesn’t even mean to say it out loud. but he has, and for once, he isn’t all that afraid.

 

“what did you just say?” his mother’s voice is offended, confused, grating.

 

“i’d kill you,” he holds eye contact with jerome, who has a certain spark in his eye he rarely sees. “before you could take me away from him, i’d kill you.” and he’s almost afraid of how empty his voice sounds, of how cold it is, but he means it. god, does he mean it.

 

he looks his mother in the eyes, feeling his face lose all expression as he blinks. his mother takes a second to look afraid, and bewildered, and then someone is grabbing his hand.

 

he blinks again and feels cold fear start to seep in. he’s never talked back before, never made a threat before. what’s going to happen to him? are they going to beat him like they do jerome? are they really going to send him away now?

 

but the hand holding his tugs him away, tugs him back towards the trailer, and he realizes it’s jerome. the screen door closes gently behind them, along with the actual door, the sound of the lock satisfying. heknows their mother won’t be coming back tonight. jerome pulls him down to sit on their mattress.

 

the panic starts to set in.

 

he’s on his knees, hands gripping his own pant legs, and his heart is beating too fast, and he feels like he can’t breathe, and the edges of his vision are starting to go black, and he doesn’t _understand_ , what is _happening_ -

 

“miah, look at me,” jerome’s voice sounds so far away, and he realizes his eyes are closed, so he opens them, desperate to see his twin, but he can’t _focus_ , and he isn’t even wearing his _glasses_.

 

“miah,” he feels rough palms on his cheeks, the contact grounding him a little. he feels jerome’s thumb swipe over the cut still trying to heal on his cheek, and the slight pain is even more grounding.

 

he blindly reaches for jerome’s wrists, and lets himself fall forward, trusts that jerome will be there. their foreheads bump before his face slides to the left so he can bury his face in jerome’s neck. he’s trying desperately to breathe, but his chest hurts too much, and his lungs feel like they are closed up.

 

“miah, you’re okay,” his voice is low and rough next to his ear, and jeremiah gasps in a breath before it comes out as a sob.

 

“don’t let ‘em take me,” he can’t be bothered that he sounds like a child, he doesn’t care that he sounds pathetic. “please, don’t,”

 

“miah, it’s not gonna happen,” jerome pulls his face back and aligns their foreheads. “she’d be dead before she could even make the call. and i promised to never let her hurt you again. i meant it.” jeremiah finally successfully opens his eyes and sees that jerome’s eyes are closed.

 

“and when she’s dead, i’ll take you away,” jeremiah lets out a sob again at the hopeful thought. “we will stay in this city, since you like it here so much. with the fancy buildings and shit,” he so desperately wants to go now, wants to just run away and never look back.

 

“we will stay, miah,” jerome pulls back a little and opens his eyes, holding eye contact. “we will stay. we’ll be out of here, away from this. i promise.” jeremiah reaches out and touches jerome’s cheek, still afraid to do it despite everything. he’s always afraid.

 

but jerome leans into it, and moves in, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised eye, the skin transitioning to a green-yellow color as it heals. it’s ugly and distracting, and everyone assumes it was jerome. everyone always assumes it’s jerome.

 

jerome kisses the cut on his cheek, and all he can do is cry and try to breathe. “i’d do anything for you, jeremiah.” his twin holds his face close, and he puts his free hand where he knows jerome’s heart is, and lets himself feel it, to try and match it like he does to sleep. another kiss is pressed gently next to the corner of his mouth, and he feels like he can’t breathe all over again. “anything.”

 

jerome still feels too far away, but he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do, how close jerome will _let_ him get, but considering everything, he shouldn’t care. jeremiah wants to crawl inside jerome and hide away, to not exist, to just _be_ him

 

he’s already let himself be free from fear once tonight. why not do it again?

 

jeremiah slides the hand that was touching jerome’s cheek to the back of his head, letting his fingers run through his hair, his other hand gripping his shirt tightly. his whole body is shaking, and he’s still crying, but his heart feels safe. he has jerome. he always will.

 

no matter what.

 

he moves to bury his face in his neck again, scooting closer, wanting to _just_ _be_ _closer_ , but doesn’t know what to do. jerome seems to understand though, because he can feel his twin start to move around, feels hands hands leave his face to grab at his waist, gently pulling him up.

 

he’s in the position to pray, but he hasn’t prayed in years. no one answered his prayers. jerome gave up years before him. he didn’t want his last hope to be nothing. but it was. in the end, it was. he supposes it is the end now.

 

so instead of praying, his knees instinctively part to let jerome slide his legs straight out between his. jeremiah puts his hands on jerome’s shoulders to keep balanced before letting himself settle down in his brother’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders and burying his face again. his twin’s arms are holding him tightly, their chests pressed together, and jeremiah can feel their heartbeats, wants his to match jerome’s, he always wants to match jerome.

 

“tomorrow,” jerome whispers in his ear. he lets his eyes close, breathing returning to normal as he relaxes into jerome. “tomorrow is the end.” his twin holds him tighter, and jeremiah does the same, feeling fresh tears fill his eyes.

 

tomorrow is the end.

 

he opens his eyes to darkness and a familiar coldness.

 

jeremiah blinks a few times before sitting up slowly, trying to take in his dark surroundings. he sighs heavily, sadly, longingly.

 

he has that dream more often than he would like.

 

it just makes him miss his twin more, miss what they used to have. he doesn’t know what exact moment everything changed. he wishes he could remember.

 

he squints at his clock to find that it is three forty-seven in the morning. he groans, flopping back down on his bed. as he stares at the ceiling, he lets himself feel what he felt that night. jerome is asleep. he won’t feel it.

 

he remembers what it was like to be that close to his twin, to feel like nothing could ever come between them or stop them. that things had changed irreversibly for them. in a way, things had, but not completely the way jeremiah had originally thought.

 

jeremiah touches the small scar on his collarbone, imagining it’s jerome’s scar instead of his own. he hasn’t touched very much of jerome’s skin, hasn’t really felt it. he doesn’t know if jerome’s body would be warm or cold. he lets his hand lay flat against his own heartbeat, his chest feeling hot to the touch, the beat faster than he thought.

 

jeremiah closes his eyes, losing himself in the memory, trying to capture every detail, every feeling, both physical and emotional.

 

it was the night of his first panic attack, the beginning of his downfall, but it was also the night he got to touch jerome, to really feel him for himself. sure, they shared a bed, and he would silently ask jerome to hold him some nights. jerome would grab his hand when they were younger so they wouldn’t get away from each other. sometimes jerome will just mess with his hair, or put an arm around his shoulders, or shove his finger in his ear when jeremiah isn’t listening to him ramble.

 

the pattern being jerome initiating.

 

it’s strange when jeremiah initiates. he remembers hugging jerome when he had told him about bruce, the thrill shocking them both.

 

bruce.

 

he takes a moment to think about the teenager, to really think about him. he remembers shaking his hand when they first met. he had been awkward about it, not used to it, but bruce was confident, firm. he can’t stop his mind from wandering to when bruce had hugged him, _and_ _how_ _ridiculous_ , he thinks. why did bruce feel the need to hug him?

 

jeremiah gets lost in the memory of arms around his shoulders, something new, an action he was barely used to doing to jerome. he had let his hand reach out, had let himself feel bruce, not knowing how often he could do that. he felt bruce’s ribs and the warmth underneath his sweater confirming that, yes, it was real, bruce was here.

 

bruce wayne was touching him.

 

the thought that touching bruce is a real possibility has him swallowing hard. he wants to touch bruce. god, does he _want_ to. but he still feels like bruce is untouchable, too far above him. but jerome has touched him.

 

jerome has done more than just touch him.

 

jerome has kissed him, tasted him, bit him, grabbed him, pulled him closer, pushed him harder, and everything about it _pisses_ jeremiah off. why couldn’t it be him? why can’t jeremiah be the one who has kissed him, tasted him, bit him? why wasn’t it jeremiah who was grabbed, pulled closer, pushed harder?

 

who does he even want to be?

 

he knows he wants bruce, wants to show him that he’s better than jerome, that he will love him, care for him, everything jerome won’t be capable of. then again, jeremiah isn’t really sure what he’s capable of either. it’s not like he’s ever loved anyone but jerome, and he is aware the feelings he has _should_ be different between bruce and jerome.

 

he moves his hand away from his heart to look at it, remembering how bruce had let him touch his hand, let him feel a scar that came from something sad. he wants to feel bruce’s fingers slide between his own again, and this time he will cherish it, this time he will keep holding on, pull him closer. jeremiah doesn’t really know what he will do. but he wants it. he wants _something_.

 

jeremiah wants bruce’s hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat the way he does to jerome. he wants bruce’s hand running through his hair, pulling him closer the way he did with jerome. he wants to run his hands along bruce’s waist, ribs, back, the way jerome did to him.

 

jeremiah wants bruce to feel good because of him.

 

but they both have felt good with jerome, _because_ of jerome, but _he_ _isn’t_ _jerome_. jeremiah wants bruce to feel more than good with him.

 

he’s tired of jerome being better than him at everything he wants to be good at.

 

jeremiah has been trying to ignore the fact that he is incredibly lonely, and the thought of touching someone is turning loneliness into desperate arousal, and he wishes there was a way to fix that. he knows logically that he can take care of being lonely on his own. he can feel jerome do it all the time. the feeling that jerome unwillingly transfers and the moment he successfully pleasures himself is almost enough some nights for jeremiah to get there himself.

 

even if it’s followed by his own disgust and guilt.

 

but jeremiah is tired, and he hates thinking about those nights, and if he were to take care of his problem, he doesn’t think he could face bruce in the morning for hours and still be able to concentrate on work. it’s hard enough as it is having bruce around. so he continues to ignore it, eyes closing as he pulls the blanket up over his bare chest, trying to get comfortable.

 

he thinks distantly that he can feel jerome now that he’s less focused on his own feelings, but he can’t be for sure. he thinks it’s all just in his head, just wishful thinking. it usually is. he lets his mind go quiet.

 

-

 

jeremiah blinks open his eyes, his head pounding slightly. it’s still blissfully dark in his room thanks to the wonderful design of no windows. his clock says seven twenty-three. he supposes he can get up now.

 

he sits up, instantly regretting not wearing a shirt to bed, the chilly air making a shiver run through his body. he gets up, wondering over to his closet. he finds exactly what he was hoping to find.

 

jeremiah slips one of jerome’s hoodies over his head that he stole a while ago, and he’s not sure if the hoodie smells like him or if it’s the aftershave.

 

he doesn’t want to think right now. he needs coffee.

 

he opens is door quietly, keeping jerome in mind, but he doesn’t think jerome is asleep. when he walks out into the hallway, he pauses, and turns back to grab his phone. he clicks the home button to find no notifications, which isn’t surprising. it’s still early.

 

jeremiah makes his way back out into the hallway and to the kitchen, starting his usual routine. he starts the coffee machine, the noise familiar and calming. he sits on his stool and waits patiently. he decides to go to his messages and read through his texts with bruce.

 

he takes a deep breath. today is going to be fine, he silently tells himself. don’t get worked up. he decides to go to the notes section on his phone and types out things he wants jerome to get today while out.

 

he’s typing ‘eggs’ when the coffee machine finally dings that it’s ready. jeremiah gets up to choose a mug, remembering how he broke one when jerome had told him bruce was in their house. bruce had offered to buy him a new one. he wonders if he ever will.

 

he picks a plain black one, sitting it down and pouring it full of coffee, steam rising out of it. he always makes sure there’s enough for jerome, just in case. he doesn’t always drink it, but that just means jeremiah can have a second cup.

 

he moves back to his stool, settling down again to continue his list. it’s strange not physically having to write it down. he supposes he could get used to this, though he’s not very good at typing.

 

he continues his list of grocery items, before moving on to other things. he writes down both his and jerome’s shampoos, and he even asks if jerome will pick him out an aftershave, not wanting to constantly smell jerome on himself. he suggests buying more toothpaste, and floss, though he doesn’t really need more floss. he just likes having plenty around.

 

he looks at his phone, and wonders about a phone case and headphones. he puts question marks next to them, in case jerome is unsure of what to get. jeremiah doesn’t know either.

 

he finally considers it safe to take a long awaited sip of coffee, which turns into a very _long_ sip, and he’s already downed half of it. he blames it on his weird night. he doesn’t want to be tired when bruce is with him.

 

jeremiah hears his twin’s door open, and he feels a nervous panic flow through his body. but then he hears the bathroom door close, which means he has time to calm himself down, and prepare to see his twin again after everything that happened yesterday.

 

he absentmindedly touches his face and neck, appreciating the smoothness, and already accepting that he will never be able to shave this well. he takes another sip of coffee. he goes back to add coffee to the list.

 

when jerome finally enters the kitchen, he looks at jeremiah, does a double take, and squints his eyes suspiciously. jeremiah raises his eyebrows, downing the rest of his coffee slowly.

 

“that’s my hoodie,” jerome points out, moving towards him. jeremiah blinks a few times before nodding. “you have been wearin’ a lot of my clothes recently.” jeremiah just shrugs, picking his phone up again and look through his list. “why are you stealing my comfy clothes?”

 

jerome picks up his mug and pours more coffee in it, before pulling out the creamer and the sugar, making it his own. jeremiah just watches silently.

 

“i can buy you some of your own, if you want,” and jeremiah swallows at the thought of giving up all of the clothes he has been stealing. jerome would probably laugh at the ridiculous amount. he never wore them before, never outside of his bed. he figured jerome would find it weird.

 

“i mean, you can hang on to whatever stuff you’ve taken.” jerome takes a sip of coffee. “just don’t be surprised if you see me wearing my hoodie again. means i stole it back. most likely temporarily, though.” he smiles at jeremiah over his mug, and he desperately wants to pretend everything is fine. jerome’s eyes land on his phone.

 

“what are ya typin’ out?” he asks, head tilting curiously. jeremiah scoots the phone over to him a little.

 

“just your shopping list.” he answers simply, only just realizing it’s the first words he’s said this whole time. jerome nods approvingly.

 

“just copy that, paste it into a message, and send it to me,” he slides it back to jeremiah. “oh, if bruce doesn’t show you, i can show you how to put music on your phone. that way you can listen as you do things.” jeremiah tries not to physically stiffen at the mention of bruce from his twin.

 

“is it legal?” jeremiah asks knowingly. jerome just raises his eyebrows and takes a long, silent sip of coffee. he rolls his eyes. “fine. when bruce leaves, you can show me.” jerome smiles widely.

 

“sweet. it will involve your laptop. might remind bruce to bring your charger. oh,” jerome sits down his coffee and rests his elbows on the island.“how long should i be gone?”

 

“what?” jeremiah asks, confused by the question.

 

“how long should i be gone? how much time do you wanna spend with him?” jeremiah just shakes his head.

 

“however long you need to be gone is fine.” jerome purses his lips.

 

“really? ‘cause i could do this in an hour,” and jeremiah makes an ‘o’ with his mouth, because that would _not_ be enough time.

 

“maybe longer than an hour,” he says reluctantly. “and it isn’t about spending time with him.” jerome just smiles. “it’s _not_. i need help with this generator, and a fresh set of eyes will be helpful.” jerome just hums in a way that gets on jeremiah’s nerves. “ _what_?”

 

“i could’ve easily been your fresh set of eyes,” jerome raises his mug to take a sip, but pauses. “ _and_ i could’ve easily shown you everything you need to know about your phone.” jeremiah opens his mouth to reply, but jerome beats him to it. “you just wanna see brucie. but hey,” jerome starts to walk away from the island. “who am i to judge you for that?”

 

his twin rounds the corner, out of sight, and jeremiah is a bit dumbfounded, and annoyed, and _oh_ , how he has missed those familiar feelings that jerome brings out of him.

 

“he’s coming at nine!” he shouts loudly, hoping jerome hears him. he hears a loud noise that he assumes is an answer before letting his body deflate, forehead resting against the cold island. he sighs.

 

he doesn’t like being so obvious.

 

he raises his head enough to look at the little clock at the top of his screen, finding that it’s only eight o’clock. he groans, letting his head fall again. he isn’t ready for this.

 

he has mini flashbacks of his early morning struggle, and decides he should not sit around and let himself think while waiting to hear from bruce. jeremiah gets up and takes his phone to the bathroom with him.

 

jeremiah has just finished thoroughly brushing his teeth for about two minutes when his phone buzzes on the counter. he wipes at his mouth with a towel and picks it up hurriedly, seeing it’s a text from bruce.

 

-good morning. i wanted to make sure you were awake before i head over.-

 

he starts to feel nervous all over again, typing out a reply to confirm he’s awake.

 

-good morning. yes, i’m awake.-

 

and no, _no_ , that’s a _horrible_ response, it’s so boring and to the point. he backspaces to ‘good morning’, trying to think of a better response.

 

-good morning. i’ve been awake for a while. i’m anxious to get my generator figured out.-

 

he re-reads it, wondering if it sounds weird, before deleting the part about the generator.

 

-good morning. i’ve been awake for a while now. i keep trying to think of what could be wrong.-

 

and yes, he thinks that is as good as it’s going to get. he hits send, feeling slightly guilty. he hasn’t taken the time to work or think about the generator since jerome stumbled into his bedroom talking about secrets.

 

he wonders if there will be any awkwardness between jerome and bruce.

 

jerome doesn’t usually get weird about things like that. he isn’t a shy person, _at all_ , nor is he subtle. he probably won’t bring it up, due to the possibility that bruce doesn’t remember. he can’t stop wondering what bruce remembers, or wondering if bruce was bit by jerome, scratched by jerome. yet he also doesn’t want to know.

 

seeing the scratches and bites on jerome was enough.

 

he exits the bathroom, trying to get back out of his bad mood, when he stops again at jerome’s bedroom door. he knocks lightly, and hears jerome acknowledge him, before he opens the door.

 

jeremiah lets himself in past the doorway, but doesn’t go much further. he finally sees that jerome is going through his closet loudly.

 

“i think bruce is on his way,” he says it, but isn’t sure why he felt the need to tell jerome. his twin just turns towards him and smiles.

 

“okay,” he goes back to moving shirts around, when jeremiah finally gets too curious to not ask.

 

“are you looking for something?” jerome chuckles at the question.

 

“well, you were wearing my shirt the other day,” and jeremiah feels himself blush a little. “so i’m just lookin’ through my shirts, see if i notice anything specific missing.” he shakes his head, feeling incredibly embarrassed, but not feeling any regret. his twin looks his way again, still smiling. “i noticed that my faded orange shirt with ‘crush’ on the front is missing.” and jeremiah doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to say, so he just shrugs. jerome scoffs, walking away from his closet to his bed, picking up his mug from the nightstand. jeremiah feels his phone buzz in his hands.

 

-well then, i’m on my way. i hope we figure it out.-

 

“hey miah?” jeremiah looks up from his phone only to find his twin isn’t looking at him. “don’t get weird with him.” jeremiah furrows his eyebrows, feeling slightly offended and confused.

 

“excuse me?” and jerome looks up from his coffee mug, looking slightly panicked.

 

“no, i just meant-you know what? forget i said that,” jerome chugs his coffee and sits the empty mug on the nightstand, standing up and walking towards him. jeremiah feels concern at the exhausted look on his face.

 

“jerome, have you been sleeping?” he asks cautiously. “you keep pestering me about it, but i’m a little worried about you, too.” jerome just smiles tightly.

 

“i’m fine,” he says calmly. “just been rough the past couple of nights.” and jeremiah understands, it’s been rough for him, too, but only because there has been stuff bothering him.

 

jerome’s expression falls a little, and he wishes he could forgive his twin and move on, act like it never happened. he’s not even sure jerome knows for sure that he knows.

 

“i am sorry, jeremiah.” he says it quietly, and the words confirm that, yes, jerome is aware that he knows, that he figured it out. he feels his heart sink, because it also confirms that his assumption was correct. he hates being right sometimes.

 

jeremiah starts to feel his own composure slip, feels himself losing control, his eyebrows twitching and jaw clenching. he blinks rapidly, looking away from his twin, hand tightening around his phone.

 

“don’t,” he manages to get out, teeth still clenched together. “don’t.”

 

he turns around quickly and exhales harshly, making his way to his bedroom to get properly dressed. he closes his door louder than usual, not completely on purpose, and tosses his phone onto his bed.

 

he silently picks out a deep navy button up, a purple tie, and a matching navy sweater vest. he lays them on his bed and picks out black slacks, black socks, and a black belt. he gets dressed in a slow daze, brain not on high alert at the moment.

 

he’s trying to get his tie right, but his hands are shaking, and he’s getting so frustrated, and his eyes start to fill with hot tears, when he feels his twin’s presence in his room. he turns around angrily, whipping the tie off.

 

“why can’t i just tie the _fucking_ tie,” he throws it to the side, and he feels like something collapses inside him. “bruce is on his way and i can’t even look decent. not that it matters, does it?” he squeezes his eyes closed, chest hurting and throat burning. “he isn’t interested in _me_.”

 

“that isn’t-“ his twin starts to say quietly. jeremiah doesn’t want to hear it.

 

“why would he be?” he shouts over jerome. “why would he be interested in _me_ when there’s _you_?” he opens his eyes and looks at jerome, sees how distraught his twin looks, but doesn’t _care_.

 

“ _you_. you with the personality, and charisma, and perfect _everything_ ,” he turns away from his twin, not able to look at him. “you are so perfect, and good at everything that i’m not, good at everything he wants. he _wants_ you.”

 

he lets out a bitter, watery laugh. “but i don’t blame him for wanting you. he isn’t a blind idiot. even _i’m_ not a blind idiot. how could anyone not want _you_?”

 

it falls silent besides his harsh breathing. but then his brain catches up to his words, and the fearful realization hits him, and he hopes jerome doesn’t catch on to what he implied, hopes jerome just walks away, just lets him be upset. he’s glad jerome can’t see his face, the fear and shock written all over it.

 

“i tried to pretend like everything was fine, i tried, but you just _had_ to bring it up, didn’t you?” he feels like he’s drowning, and he doesn’t know what to do with everything that he’s feeling, he’s not used to feeling _so_ _damn_ _much_ -

 

but even though this is jerome’s fault, even though he’s hurt by him, _pissed_ at him, he doesn’t protest when jerome shows up in front of him and wraps his arms slowly around his shoulders, one hand holding the back of his head gently. he lets himself lean into it, knowing that if he doesn’t he will most definitely have a full blown panic attack. he thinks he might still have one anyways.

 

“i know you hate me right now,” jerome says roughly. “but i need you to breathe.”

 

“bruce is on his way,” he barely gets it out, can barely get air into his lungs. “i can’t-“

 

“miah,” his twin’s voice is so calm, he’s always so okay. “you can. you can breathe. you can get your tie on. you can see him.” he shakes his head violently.

 

“i can’t see him,” he’s trying so hard to breathe, but he can’t, it hurts too much.

 

“tell me what you need,” he says with a little more urgency in his voice. “show me what you need from me.” but jeremiah doesn’t know, because he’s so angry with jerome, he doesn’t want _anything_ from him. but at the same time, he needs jerome, is desperate for him to make this feeling go away like he always does.

 

“do you wanna punch me?” and jeremiah thinks that’s a good idea. “do you want complete space from me for a week? do you just need me to hug you until you’re ready to be pissed at me again?” all of these things sound great, to be honest, but he thinks he needs to figure out how to breathe first.

 

“breathe,” jeremiah breathes out, hoping jerome gets that he just wants to calm down.

 

“okay,” jerome says, holding on a little tighter. “do what you need. that’s what i’m here for.” but jeremiah doesn’t know, he wants jerome to fix him, to make it stop, make his chest stop aching and his lungs to stop closing.

 

“please, i can’t-“ he thinks he might be dying this time, and feels bitterness at dying like this, and realizes that’s probably a bit dramatic. everything hurts though, and his vision is going black at the edges, so he closes his eyes because he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want a panic attack, he wants it all to _stop_.

 

he tries to open his eyes, feeling jerome’s hands pulling at his waist, but he can’t see anyways, so he lets them stay closed, forehead resting against his twin’s, starting to gain a little control over his breathing. jeremiah feels a hand grab at his wrist and pull it up to his chest, where his heart is. jerome’s heart isn’t beating very slow, but it’s slower than his own. jerome’s other hand removes his glasses, and their noses bump together roughly, the sudden harsh feeling comforting jeremiah.

 

he’s coming out of it. he always comes out of it. he isn’t dying. he can feel. he can breathe.

 

_breathe_.

 

“breathe,” jerome’s voice is low, but firm, making sure to break through all the noise in his head.

 

he thinks he’s starting to calm down, his breathing almost completely normal, so he lets his hands loosen from jerome’s shirt. he becomes aware of jerome’s arms around his waist, holding him close, and jeremiah feels a pulse of hurt.

 

“i _hate_ you,” he says it with as much heat and anger as he can, but it mostly just sounds sad, his voice barely there. “ _i hate you._ ” jerome doesn’t say anything back, just keeps holding him. “why are you so much better than me? at everything?”

 

“i’m not better at everything,” jerome says softly, his warm breath hitting his cheek. “i can’t build a generator, i don’t have any kind of plan, ever, for anything, but you do,” but jeremiah doesn't really believe that. “seriously. you’re prepared for anything to happen, and what to do if it ever does. i’m so certain that i’m fine that i’ll look like a fucking idiot if anything happens to me.” jeremiah doesn’t like the thought of something happening to his twin, but he has a point. jerome is completely unprepared for anything bad happening to him because he has this mindset that nothing could happen to him, that he’s mostly invincible. it’s dangerous.

 

“and some of those mazes you make, i could never finish. and you’re so good at math, dude. who the fuck is able to be good at _math_?” jerome sounds bitter, but in a way meant to be a joke. “you manage to be. you also have impeccable taste in clothing. yeah, the color choices are a bit odd,” and jeremiah can’t stop a scoff from slipping out. “but you always look good. just because you like to. same with your hair. i mean, it looks great when you do nothing to it, too. like today, it’s curly and simple. believe it or not, i try hard. i work hard to make my hair as crazy as i can. i look hard for the stupidest looking clothes and shoes. and i try hard to make sure you have everything in the world that you want,” and that cuts into jeremiah, makes him feel like he’s being manipulated into feeling guilty. “but i failed, and i’m sorry.”

 

that feeling, though, goes away at those words. he isn’t sure what his twin thinks he failed at, but doesn’t know how to ask that.

 

“i have always tried to protect you from people, to keep them from hurting you, but that’s _exactly_ what i did to you. and i’m sorry for failing.” jeremiah understands jerome’s soft spoken words, and while he wants to truly hate his twin, he knows he just needs time.

 

“i know bruce means a lot to you, enough to make you shout the f-word at me,” which, for jeremiah, is embarrassing. “and the way you guys look at each other-there’s something there. and i’m _sorry_.” jeremiah lets his eyes open, finding his twin’s are closed. he pulls his forehead away a little and wipes his damp eyes and cheeks. why does he always feel like such a _child_?

 

“i’ll give you as much space as you need, as much time as you need, but just- if you need me, i _am_ here.” he re-opens his eyes and looks into jerome’s, believing every word he’s been saying, can feel that he has been as honest as he can be. jerome raises a hand to cup his cheek, and jeremiah doesn’t like the way he automatically leans into, but he can’t help it.

 

“even when you hate me, okay?” jeremiah shakily holds his twin’s wrist, keeping the hand there, knowing he’s going to miss it. and then panic hits him again.

 

“bruce is on his way,” he says it tiredly, but still filled with fear.

 

“then we need to get you ready,” jeremiah shifts back a little from jerome, taking a moment to feel embarrassed, because he’s twenty-one years old. he’s had to remind himself of his age way too often lately. his twin picks up his glasses and hands them over. he takes then gently, hands still shaky, and puts them on, sighing in relief at the clarity. he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

 

“want me to ‘tie your fucking tie’ real quick?” jerome asks it quietly, almost like he’s serious, but he knows he isn’t, so jeremiah lets himself smile gently for a second before nodding. he opens his eyes when feels that jerome is standing in front of him. his twin puts the tie over his shoulders, pulling it together across his chest, looping it and tucking it and pulling it so it’s tied. jeremiah just watches him silently.

 

“your tie is all tied,” he pulls it tight and flips down his shirt collar down for him. “you should probably splash some water on your face and take a tylenol, or you’ll feel this later.” jerome is still fiddling with his tie as he speaks so jeremiah stops his hand with his own.

 

“i’ll need time,” he says quietly. jerome nods, eyes dull but a small smile on his lips.

 

“yeah, of course, uh,” he pulls his hand away from jeremiah’s but doesn’t step away. “i’ll let bruce in when he gets here and then head out. after that, i’ll give you all the space you want. i promise i won’t pester you.” he tries to step away, but something makes jeremiah stop him. he puts his left hand on jerome’s shoulder, making him freeze, and he takes a step closer, not really looking at his twin, and he isn’t sure he should get much closer. he opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but he can’t actually think of anything to say.

 

jerome just stands there, patiently, like he always does, but jeremiah doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he steps closer, still not looking, feeling their foreheads brush.

 

“miah,” jerome says it like he’s warning him, in a tired way. he just swallows and closes his eyes, pressing harder. “you need time.” like he has to remind jeremiah, but he knows. he thinks that’s why he’s doing this.

 

“i’ll miss you anyway,” and it’s stupid thing to say, and it’s pathetic, really. he’s angry with jerome, can still feel the jealousy and hurt boiling inside of himself. but he will _miss him_.

 

“don’t,” he says, like it’s simple, like it’s easy. he supposes it should be, all things considered. he doesn’t reply, just moves his hand from jerome’s shoulder to the side of his neck, feeling jerome inhale.

 

“i want to punch you so bad, jerome,” and jerome huffs out a laugh, even though jeremiah is serious.

 

“then do it,” he presses his forehead harder against jeremiah’s, noses touching again. “give me your best shot.”

 

but jeremiah doesn’t move.

 

“i’d rather you not really see it coming, to be honest.” and jerome sighs, and when he opens his eyes, he can see him smiling. 

 

and then jerome’s hand is on his cheek again, and jeremiah bravely slides his hands down to his chest, gripping his shirt, pulling him what he thinks must be impossibly closer. jerome just keeps breathing, but jeremiah feels like he’s suffocating in everything he feels. it’s all mixing, getting messy, getting _frustrating_ , and he really doesn’t want to add frustration into it. he wants to punch jerome, hurt jerome, hug jerome, touch jerome-

 

and he has to stop thinking or he will get on dangerous topics, ones he doesn’t even feel safe thinking in his own head.

 

“i can respect that,” jerome finally says, his words feeling like they are being breathed into jeremiah, and he realizes he has been holding his breath. he exhales slowly, shakily, wanting to pull away but not wanting this moment to stop. he doesn’t know how long it will be until he’s ready to do this again.

 

jerome is moving closer, and he thinks he has a heart attack when jerome kisses his cheek. it isn’t gross, or over the top, the way jerome usually does it. it’s firm, but gentle, and it feels like a goodbye. it kills him. jerome pulls back from it, but he isn’t ready for his twin to leave, he just wants him here a few seconds longer-

 

“miah, please,” and he doesn’t know what jerome is asking for. “your anger should come first. be angry at me. be _pissed_ at me. when it comes to me, for _once_ in your life, let anger control you. i fucked up.” jeremiah knows he’s right, and he’s sure he will be mad at himself when jerome does walk away, when he starts thinking clearly.

 

“i will be,” he whispers it, squeezing his eyes shut as he bumps his nose against jerome’s again. “i am, but i-i have to do this. i need this. you told me to do what i needed, so i am. i _need_ this.”

 

“what _is_ this?” jerome’s voice matches his, and it scares him for a second, and then the question itself has him frozen.

 

“i don’t know,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t. he doesn’t know what this is, what he’s doing, why he needs this so badly. jeremiah’s not even sure this is completely what he’s needing.

 

“i just-i need you anyways. before i push you away. i-“ his words pause as jerome puts his hands on his waist again. “i need you. i’ll always need you.” jerome doesn’t say anything, and jeremiah is both thankful and nervous. his hands are still on his twin’s chest and he considers moving them, but he doesn’t know where.

 

he feels like he isn’t close enough.

 

jeremiah never feels close enough to jerome, purely because he still very much dreams of disappearing inside of him and never existing at all. he knows it’s physically impossible. he yearns for that anyways. he always will, he thinks.

 

he knows they could be closer, that their bodies could easily become completely pressed up against each other, arms holding tightly, but that isn’t what they do. they usually have space between them, just enough, so that it isn’t weird.

 

but jeremiah wouldn’t care.

 

who is around to say it’s weird to hug with full contact? or say it’s weird to hold hands, sit close, share a bed? no one knows but them.

 

what’s stopping them? what’s stopping _him_?

 

yet he feels his heart race at just the thought, because he knows what’s stopping him. he does. and jerome just has personal boundaries, and knows what brother’s shouldn’t do. jeremiah knows what brother’s shouldn’t do. of course he does.

 

but what’s bad about being just a little bit closer doing what they already do?

 

“don’t be mad at him,” jerome says pleadingly, which is a strange tone to hear from his twin. jeremiah pulls back a little.

 

“i’m not mad at him,” jeremiah says quietly. “i’m hurt by him. i won’t be able to look at him the same, knowing what i know.”

 

“but _he_ doesn’t know,” jerome interrupts. “ _i_ barely even know what happened. i can’t remember. i can almost promise that he doesn’t remember either.” it’s silent, and the more he thinks, the more jeremiah starts to feel anger rising again as questions start to brew.

 

“answer a question for me,” and jeremiah’s voice is shaking, feeling the anger already spread before he’s even heard an answer. when jerome nods, he takes a deep breath. “were you hoping for it?”

 

he watches the surprise take over his features before defeat replaces it, his twin looking down, opening his mouth to reply. but jeremiah just pulls his hands away, takes a step back, remembering very clearly why he needs space.

 

“so it was partially planned?” jerome shakes his head, hands falling away from jeremiah the further he gets.

 

“no, it-it wasn’t _planned_ , i just know how i feel about him, and what i thought _could_ happen.” and it doesn’t feel like a lie, so jeremiah lets his tense shoulders relax a little, because at least it wasn’t planned. “but i don’t know about bruce, or how _he_ feels, or what _he_ was hoping for that night.”

 

jeremiah freezes. he looks up at jerome, eyebrows twitching together, not bothering to hide his confusion and betrayal.

 

“why was that a lie?” he asks, his words coming out sharp and angry. at least jerome looks rightfully regretful. his twin clenches his jaw and looks away. jeremiah takes another step back.

 

“i think the feeling is mutual,” but jeremiah shakes his head.

 

“you think, or you know?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

 

“jeremiah-“

 

“no, no,” he interrupts quickly. “you _wanted_ me to put my anger first, so i am. answer me. you know the feeling is mutual?” jerome just looks at him and silently nods. “how?”

 

“do you _really_ want the answer to that?” jerome asks him like he’s being stupid, and it just makes jeremiah all the more pissed.

 

“why would i ask if i didn’t want the answer, jerome?” and jerome just smiles without any sort of joy to it.

 

“i don’t want to hurt you more than i already am,” he replies, shrugging helplessly.

 

“why not?” he asks desperately. “why not do it all at once and get it over with? did he tell you?” jerome stops smiling, turning away from him and running a hand over his eyes. jeremiah takes a deep breath, realization hitting him again. “did he _show_ you?” his voice is quiet, and maybe jerome was right. maybe he didn’t want the answer. maybe he didn’t want to know. but he knows, and it _hurts_. he releases a shaky exhale, closing his eyes. he feels jerome gently grab his wrist, and he tries to yank it away, but his twin holds it tighter.

 

“don’t push him away,” jerome says through clenched teeth. “someone finally sees what i have _always_ seen in you.” jeremiah opens his eyes, the words going through all of the anger straight to his heart. “don’t push _him_ away because of _me_.” jerome finally lets go, and brushes past him to probably leave the room. but the anger is still boiling inside of him to the point he thinks he might explode. “jerome,” he calls out, turning around before his twin does. and when he does, he swings his left arm and punches jerome.

 

he feels the moment his fist connects with jerome’s cheekbone, feels the pain shoot through his knuckles, but he doesn’t care. he turns away, shaking out his hand, his breathing harsh.

 

some of the anger left him with the punch.

 

“didn’t see it comin’,” jerome says dully. “i sincerely hope _that_ was your best shot, cause _fuck_.” and jeremiah feels good, feels better. maybe jerome has been taking out anger the right way all along.

 

“i feel better,” he says breathlessly, turning to face his twin, his cheek already a deep red.

 

“i’m fucking glad,” and it isn’t said bitterly, but proudly, and it manages to make him feel even better. jeremiah looks down at his hand, and it’s shaking, and he thinks it might already be bruised. “gonna both need some ice later. and tylonel.” jerome rubs at it, moving his jaw around. jeremiah can’t help smiling. his twin notices, a smile of his own forming.

 

his phone starts vibrating violently on his bed, making him jump a bit, looking at jerome. he just looks at jeremiah, his expressions screaming ‘ _what?!_ ’, so he looks back at his phone and picks it up, seeing it’s a phone call from bruce. “i’ve never had a phone call,” he can hear the anxiety in his own voice.

 

“relax,” jerome says gently. “just answer. he’s probably driving and wants to let you know he’s almost here.” jeremiah takes a deep breath and raises the phone to his ear.

 

“hello?”

 

“hey,” bruce’s voice calls out through the phone. “i’m just about to pull up to your house.” jeremiah nods before remembering that bruce can’t see him.

 

“alright. i’ll, um, let jerome know so he can let you in.”

 

there’s a pause. “jerome is still there?”

 

jeremiah pauses himself. “yes. why?”

 

“it’s nothing,” and jeremiah can’t tell if he means that. “i haven’t heard from him in a while. just unusual. it’s usually constant text messages. but i’m outside.” he hears a car door slam through the phone and keys jingling.

 

“alright.” he pauses. “bye.” he hears bruce chuckle a little.

 

“bye.” it goes silent so jeremiah takes the phone away from his ear. he turns back to his twin.

 

“he’s outside,” his twin’s cheek is starting to turn a bit purple, and he doesn’t even feel a little bad about it.

 

“i’ll go let him in,” jerome says backing up towards his open door. “do what you need to prepare.” with that, jerome exits his bedroom, and jeremiah feels like he can truly breathe, feels like a weight has come off his chest.

 

he thinks he can do this. sure, looking at bruce will be hard. but he has to remember that he is also his employer. he has to be professional despite personal feelings.

 

he needs to maintain a professional relationship.

 

he hears the alarms, and waits for the door to be locked before he leaves his room. he quickly goes into the bathroom and does what jerome suggested, splashing cold water on his face. he dries it off and puts his glasses back on, staring at himself in the mirror. his cheeks are a bit flushed and his curls aren’t very neat looking, but jerome did his tie nicely, and he supposes that’s good enough. he looks back at his hand and puts it under the cold water, too, sighing at the relief it brings. he dries it off and prepares to leave the bathroom.

 

just breathe, relax, and be professional, and everything will be _fine_.

 

jeremiah exits the bathroom and heads down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did you think?! do you guys enjoy the parts that give backstory on jerome and jeremiah? i know i asked last time, but based on how this chapter went, how do you think jerome and bruce will interact? and miah and bruce? so excited for you guys to read what's next. i hope there weren't too many errors, i went over this so many times to be sure but mistakes happen! thank you for reading! i love you all! <3


	12. the whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is over ELEVEN THOUSAND WORDS of aNGST and SHOCKERS?? i don't know, maybe i like my own chapter too much...i like this one!!! lots of content! and it is pretty much to the point that chapter one starts off on. if that makes sense! if you read the couple of paragraphs from jeremiah talking about bruce and jerome...i think you will see where it connects.  
> also! wonderful reader Half_Fallen suggested a song, and it suits this chapter WONDERFULLY so check it out if you want! its called ‘between the bars’ by elliot smith! first verse feels like miah, second verse feels a little bit more like jerome (in my opinion!).  
> sorry, long note! enjoy the chapter! ❤️

when jeremiah is almost to the living room entrance, he pauses at the sound of their voices. he thinks jerome can probably feel him close, but he risks it anyway. he listens.

 

“-sleeping off the vodka.” he hears jerome say. “shit had me fucked up. can’t remember a thing after the shots.” jeremiah realizes that he is testing bruce out, admitting to not remembering to see what bruce says.

 

“my memory is a bit fuzzy as well,” bruce says. “alfred wasn’t helpful the next morning. he never is though.” jerome hums in response, and jeremiah considers entering before bruce’s next words stop him.

 

“so you _really_ don’t remember anything?” the way he says it has jeremiah’s breath catching, and he wants to run away, to not hear a word of this conversation, but he would rather not give jerome any chance to answer.

 

bruce remembers.

 

he slowly enters the living room, and looks at jerome first. his twin smiles at him. it’s fake.

 

“look who finally showed up!” he says excitedly. jeremiah turns his attention to bruce as jerome stands up from the couch bruce is standing opposite from him on the other side of the coffee table, and he feels better knowing there was distance between them during their conversation.

 

he knows how close they tend to stand when they think he hasn’t walked in a room yet.

 

“good morning, bruce,” he says, his voice somewhat stiff. the teen smiles gently at him, and it makes his body relax a little.

 

“good morning,” he replies just as gently. jerome walks around the coffee table and picks up his car keys from the key holder.

 

“welp, i’m outta here,” he announces loudly. “miah, send me that list. and let me know if anything else pops up that you want.” jeremiah nods, already backing away a bit. he doesn’t want to see the door opened.

 

“let’s head back and start on the generator,” bruce suggests, and he looks like he understands, and jerome smiles a little, and jeremiah realizes bruce is still his _friend_. “i don’t even know where to begin, honestly.” jeremiah smiles, and gives a silent wave to jerome, who does the same. he turns and walks out of the living room, feeling less tense already. bruce is following him, and they don’t make it to the building room before the first two alarms go off. he pauses and waits for the third and the fourth before he starts walking again. they enter the building room and jeremiah remembers he needs to send jerome the list. he isn’t completely sure how. he opens his phone and goes to the note, looking at the options up top. he sees a box with an arrow, and assumes this must be what he should click. he clicks it, sends it as a message to jerome, and sits his phone down on one of his desks.

 

he finally takes in bruce’s appearance.

 

he dressed somewhat down again, but it seems the only kind of clothes he owns are variations of slacks and turtlenecks. jeremiah supposes he isn’t much different when it comes to clothing choice either, and tries not to wonder what’s hidden underneath the high neck of his sweater.

 

“i’m sorry,” jeremiah says suddenly, breaking the silence. bruce looks over at him confused. “i lied.” he twists his fingers in front of himself and moves to stand by the generator.

 

“what do you mean?” bruce says, laughing a little. the teen follows and stands next to him as he spreads out the blueprints on the table.

 

“i haven’t worked on the generator in days or even really thought about it.” he explains sheepishly.

 

“are you okay?” bruce’s voice is soft, like someone will hear him ask and listen for an answer. jeremiah doesn’t look at him still, and instead tries to get the blueprints to stay flattened.

 

“just been a bit, um,” he tries to think of a word to use that won’t alarm bruce. “distracted, that’s all.” the corners keep curling in, and he keeps bending them, attempting to reverse the curl but it isn’t working, so he grabs one of the mugs on the desk and sets it on a corner, before looking for something else-

 

bruce’s hand crosses over his to rest on the blueprints, almost touching his hand as well, and jeremiah realizes the teen is standing very close to him, and he _needs to get away_.

 

“i can tell,” bruce says, still sounding concerned. “the blueprints are fine. i can look at them while you go through what’s on the generator already.” the teen’s suggestion makes sense, so he nods silently and stupidly decides to look at bruce. the teen’s expression doesn’t give away much, and it’s slightly unnerving. this must be how jerome feels when he goes blank. he swallows and looks away again, standing up straighter and taking a step away.

 

“if you read off the parts, starting from the top, i’ll know where they should be.” jeremiah says, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. “we will work our way from the top to the bottom to see if anything is missing or out of place.” he starts the process of clearing his mind of his personal problems and feelings to completely focus. he pulls out a few tools in case he has to take things apart, and nods at bruce. the teen reads off the labels of letters and numbers corresponding to parts, and jeremiah checks carefully that everything is there, and makes sure it’s where it should be. things go smoothly as no time seems to pass.

 

“73-b,” bruce reads off. jeremiah blinks. he glances over at the blueprints, eyebrows twitching together. he looks back in the generator. he blinks again. there’s a small gap.

 

“what size is 73-b?” he asks nervously.

 

“um, it says it’s-“ bruce pauses. “two centimeters long and one millimeter thick.” he sounds about as exasperated as he does.

 

“i can see the small space where it should be, but i don’t know where the part is.” he starts carefully moving through the desk with the rest of the parts he hasn’t put on yet to finish it, but he doesn’t find a piece like it. he feels panic. “oh god, don’t tell me i lost the tiniest piece of the generator.”

 

“i’m sure it’s in here somewhere,” bruce says, eyes scanning around the desks. jeremiah decides that dignity isn’t important right now and drops to the floor to inspect it. he never realized how many forgotten papers were under here. he moves things around frantically but carefully, and soon sees bruce crawling around, too.

 

“i’m not finding it,” he can hear the distress in his voice, but he really just does _not_ want to fail bruce after getting this far. he shouldn’t be surprised that he has failed. he rarely succeeds in anything he does, and this project was practically doomed from the start -

 

“i found it!” bruce suddenly exclaims, and jeremiah almost rams his head into the desk above him. bruce is up on his knees and jeremiah scoots further under the desk to examine the piece and make sure it really is the one he’s missing. bruce carefully holds it out to him, and his fingers are a bit shaky, but he manages to pick it up out of bruce’s hand, seeing that it _is_ the piece he was missing, and he still has a shot to not fail bruce. he lets out a breath of relief and a small smile, looking at bruce to see he is smiling, too. he remembers that they are under a desk and decides to get out from under it and preferably back to work before his mind gets off track. just being under here so close to the teen has his mind going hazy again. jeremiah looks away and ungracefully crawls out from under the desk and stands.

 

he somewhat shakily takes some of the generator apart to get the piece in where it should be, and smiles again in relief when it fits perfectly. he steadily starts to put the rest together that he took apart, only stopping where he had stopped before. it was silent while he was working, which is something he isn’t really used to. he looks over at bruce, freezing at his expression. this one is not blank or stony.

 

bruce’s eyes are dark and focused on him, his back leaning on one of his desks and his arms crossed over his chest. he thinks bruce is just watching, is just fascinated by watching someone build something, but he has a gut feeling it’s more than fascination. jeremiah wishes he was good at reading other people’s feelings and body language, but all he really understands is jerome, and even jerome confuses him sometimes.

 

“i’m, uh,” he swallows, trying to pull his thoughts back together. “i’m back where i stopped.” he doesn’t know why he says it, why he had to let bruce know that. bruce looks at the generator, tilting his head.

 

“how did you know you were missing a piece?” bruce looks at him again, head still tilted a little. he takes a deep breath.

 

“i actually completed it the other morning, but,” he looks away from bruce, fiddling with a screwdriver. “it did not work.” bruce is silent for a few moments.

 

“so you completed it in, what, two or three days?” jeremiah opens his mouth to respond, but bruce keeps going. “it didn’t work, so you took it apart and got this far in another few hours trying to figure out what you did wrong?” jeremiah is confused by the awe in the teen’s voice, because he failed, it didn’t work because he screwed it up by making the same mistake _twice_. “jeremiah, i told you i didn’t care if it didn’t work the first time, or the twentieth time,” he sees bruce step away from the desk he was leaning on and move in closer to him. “the fact that you’ve done this _at all_ in such a short amount of time is just-“ he stops, and lets out a huff. “i’ve never had anyone work this hard on something for me,” jeremiah looks at bruce, eyes blinking, trying to process the situation.

 

“now that you’ve found the tiniest, missing piece, do you think you can finish it and have it working by friday?” he’s asking like he wants jeremiah’s truest, most honest answer, but he’s not sure he has one.

 

“all i can do is try,” he looks away to the generator, and all the pieces he needs to put in place.

 

“i doubt you need the full three days, but you should definitely use them all,” bruce is standing next to him now, and jeremiah feels like his heart is going to come up his throat. “i’d like to be here the next time you test it. i want to see it the moment it works.” jeremiah takes in a deep breath at that.

 

“in all honesty, i could finish by the end of the day,” he shakes his head, already scrapping the idea. “but i’m not asking you to stay the whole day while i work.”

 

“i’ll probably be available late tomorrow night,” bruce touches a wrench carefully with his index finger. “if you have it done, text me. i’ll be here.” jeremiah nods silently. “speaking of texting, why don’t i show you some stuff with your phone? if you don’t mind taking a break.” jeremiah just nods again and looks around, not really remembering where he put the thing.

 

“we should go to my other office, if that’s okay with you.” he sees it laying on the desk closest to the door and picks it up, with a text from jerome on the screen. it’s just a thumbs up.

 

“of course,” he looks at bruce, noticing again something about his eyes, like he knows something. what would he know? maybe he’s just being paranoid. that’s probably it. jeremiah leads them out of the building room and into his other room, clicking on the dim blue lights. he wants to get a drink, but when he checks the time on his phone, he thinks eleven in the morning is far too early (with bruce here to witness it). he stiffly sits on the left end of the gray suede couch, watching bruce do the same next to him. he holds out his phone to the teen, who scoots a little closer and takes it gently, fingers touching in the process. he tries to think of something to say to get out of his head.

 

“i’ve figured a few things out, with some help from jerome.” bruce opens up his phone and smiles. “i’m not sure how to change a contact name, though.” bruce looks at him confused, but jeremiah just looks at his phone, reaching over and clicking his contact app. there’s only two names, and one of them isn’t even a name.

 

“broski?” bruce says with a laugh. jeremiah sighs. “i can show you how to do that real quick.” bruce clicks around on things and gets it up so he can change the name. he sighs again, but in relief this time. the teen holds the phone for him as he types in ‘jerome’ with his index finger, but he pauses. he backspaces to just the ‘j’ and hits done.

 

“that’s much, _much_ better, thank you.” bruce smiles gently, and jeremiah is sick of it. he looks away, fingers gripping his pants a little.

 

“let’s get your pass-code and fingerprint set up,” bruce opens up the settings and scrolls to the section that says ‘pass-code and touch id’. “it’s quick and easy to do. you can pick any finger you want.” a giant outline of a fingerprint shows up on the screen with instructions. “just put your finger on there repeatedly, and it picks up the main part of your print.” jeremiah looks at his fingers on his left hand, and smiles a little, picking his middle finger and pressing it on the home button gently. bruce laughs a little.

 

“it’s the last finger jerome will try,” he explains. “he thinks i’m boring, and would use my thumb or index. and he's right, i would, normally.” the phone vibrates every time he lifts it before the screen changes a little.

 

“now move it so it’s the edges of your middle finger.” jeremiah does so, somewhat amazed at how quick it’s working and how far phones have come. the phone vibrates, signalling it’s success. “there. now only that finger can open your phone. we can also set up a digit pass-code, just in case.” a screen pops up with four boxes. he hands the phone completely to jeremiah now. he tries to think of something he would remember but isn’t one of his door pass-codes already. he decides on a number combination that means something only he knows about.

 

3 2 3 9.

 

“lock it and try your fingerprint.” he does as bruce suggests, locking it and placing his middle finger over the home button and pushing. it opens the way it had before. “now try using your thumb. it should bring up your pass-code.” it does. he enters his pass-code discreetly and it opens. he nods, approving of and appreciating the locks.

 

“i feel much more comfortable now, so thank you. jerome’s phone doesn’t have a pass-code, which i think is insane, but,” he pauses. “what are all the apps on the phone? i don’t understand why there is a health app. or a wallet?” bruce chuckles, gently taking the phone again but keeping it held up between them. the teen explains the apps the best he can, and that, sadly, they can’t be deleted despite being useless.

 

“‘find an iphone’ is only useful if you always have it turned on, which you probably don’t want.” jeremiah tilts his head.

 

“is it a tracking device?” he asks nervously. bruce shakes his head.

 

“not exactly, no. if you lose your phone, and it’s turned on, you can get on jerome’s phone and find it. but like i said, it only works if you want it to. i don’t think you will ever need that. i wouldn’t worry about it.” he swipes away from it, and jeremiah tries to take his advice, but it gives him a weird feeling in his stomach. he doesn’t know why.

 

“you know, you could change your background to something more personal,” bruce jokes, bringing him away from his thoughts. the background right now is a wave from the ocean. he never really thought about changing it.

 

“i wouldn’t know what to change it to,” he shrugs. “it’s not like i have any pictures.”

 

“you can go on the internet and look for, like, your favorite animal, or something.” jeremiah smiles a little at the suggestion. “what _is_ your favorite animal?”

 

“i’m not sure, actually,” he says truthfully. he ignores his childhood memories regarding them. “when it comes to a pet, i would want a cat.” he looks at bruce, who suddenly smiles excitedly. “what?”

 

“nothing,” bruce shakes his head, still smiling. “i guess that suits you. jerome would be a dog person.” jeremiah nods, huffing out a laugh.

 

“a dog for jerome would be incredibly distracting in the best way. for my sake, maybe we _should_ get a dog.” bruce laughs and hands his phone back to him. “what about you?” he asks, feeling a spark when their fingers touch this time. it has more purpose. bruce sits back on the couch and looks as if he’s thinking really hard about it.

 

“for a pet, i would love a bird or something. i like the idea of flying.” jeremiah tilts his head at the answer, not expecting it at all. “my favorite animal is probably...” he trails off for a few seconds. “a bat.”

 

“a bat?” jeremiah is a bit impressed by how random and unique the choice is. bruce nods a bit solemnly.

 

“i used to be terrified of them when i was younger. i think it’s important to get over your fears. so, i choose a bat.” jeremiah locks his phone and touches the sides absentmindedly.

 

“snake.” he lets himself lean back, too, shoulder almost touching bruce’s. almost.

 

“why snakes?” the teen asks quietly, making it feel unnecessarily intimate.

 

“we had two snakes growing up, and while i loved them, i feared them more. they could wrap around my neck and i wouldn’t have had the guts to save myself.” he looks at bruce who nods in understanding. “jerome loved them, though. he always had them on him when-“ he stops himself, because he doesn’t want to bring her up, doesn’t want to even acknowledge her existence. “when he was bored.” bruce doesn’t comment on the pause.

 

“that’s an interesting pet to have,” jeremiah sits his phone on the arm of the couch. “jerome mentioned that you moved around a lot.” and he has to control his expression, control the irritation and small amount of panic.

 

“what else has jerome mentioned?” he attempts to ask it casually, but can hear the bitter undertone. bruce is quick to reply.

 

“not a lot,” he turns his body to face jeremiah more. “i mean that. i asked questions, and i got vague answers. even about you, before we met.” he looks at the teen, finding he believes him, and believes that jerome wouldn’t actually say too much. “i met you knowing barely anything about you, or really him. even after, i tried asking about you, but he was locked tight. i swear.” jeremiah squints at bruce, about to ask what he was asking jerome about, but bruce jumps in again. “i mean, i wasn’t asking for secrets, or i dont _think_ i was. just simple questions about who you are.” bruce shakes his head, smiling. “i’m sorry, i don’t want you to think i’m trying to be nosy.”

 

jeremiah smiles softly. “you could always just ask _me_.” he looks away. “i can’t promise i won’t be vague, but you can ask _me_ about me.”

 

“what’s your favorite color?” bruce suddenly asks, throwing jeremiah off for a few seconds. he blinks a few times before he can find a response.

 

“uh, blue.” he says just as bluntly, looking at bruce, a smile slowly growing. “i wasn’t expecting that question.” bruce just smiles back.

 

“that was the point,” jeremiah turns in more to face bruce as well. “is that why the lights are blue in here?” jeremiah feels his inner walls start to raise, but he wants to be at least a little honest with bruce. it should be a simple question, though he supposes the question _is_ simple. the answer isn’t.

 

“partially, yes,” he hesitates, and bruce sits patiently and waits for him to gather his thoughts. “we grew up in a loud, shifting environment. there was barely any privacy, or calm moments, or quiet moments. so i made a room that was blue, calm, quiet, and _completely_ private.” bruce listens to him, really listens, and it’s strange to have someone completely focused on his words. “when i’m in here, jerome leaves me be until i’m ready to come out. it’s _my_ space.”

 

bruce gets a weird expression on his face before he speaks. “well now i _definitely_ feel like i’m invading your privacy, but by just existing now.” bruce is smiling, so he’s probably half joking, but jeremiah quickly shakes his head.

 

“you’re different,” it comes out a bit too serious, in a way that makes him feel exposed, and he should _not_ have said it like that. “i mean- i see jerome every single day of my life, and only him, for years. sometimes i need to get away from him. you’re different.” jeremiah hates that that is a lie, that he sees someone new once a month, but dr. thompkins mentioning she knew bruce has him cautious to bring her up.

 

he can’t risk jerome being exposed.

 

“that makes total sense, actually,” the teen huffs out a laugh. “i, personally, can’t imagine living exclusively with jerome. i think i would lose my mind.” jeremiah lets himself smile fondly before he remembers their fight. his face falls.

 

“trust me, it isn’t easy some days.” he pulls on his tie, loosening it a little, messing up jerome’s handiwork. he takes in a breath, letting his body relax almost has much as bruce’s has. their shoulders press together. his heart beats a little faster.

 

“is everything okay?” bruce asks it softly, because he always seems to talk softly with him. but bruce’s voice always has a different tone during private conversations with jerome. “i noticed jerome’s face. and your hand looks a little bruised.” jeremiah tenses up, looking at his hand and clearing his throat. “i mean, i’m not a detective, but i _think_ you may have punched him.” despite himself, he smiles at bruce’s words, and when he looks at the teen, bruce is smiling, but his eyes are filled with concern.

 

“we will be okay, we just,” he isn’t really sure how to explain it to bruce without giving away it’s _about_ bruce. “we all have secrets, and while i hate when jerome keeps things from me, some things are better left unknown.” it’s silent for a few seconds, and bruce looks like he has something in mind. “does that make sense?”

 

“yes,” the teen nods. “sometimes knowing things isn’t for the best. i think that sometimes it’s okay to not know. i tried so hard to figure things out, and when i did,” bruce pauses, shaking his head, expression disappointed. “i agree.” they both are quiet for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. bruce sighs.

 

“i think there is something i should ask you,” bruce says seriously, making jeremiah tense up all over again. “it’s about jerome. i mentioned something, and i think it freaked him out, in a jerome kind of way, if that makes sense.” jeremiah tilts his head at bruce, sitting up a little straighter.

 

“what is it?” he asks concerned, though bruce looks more curious.

 

“i mentioned that the circus is coming through at the end of the month,” jeremiah is stunned, still as a statue, and eyes blinking in disbelief. _please, god, no_. “they haven’t been through gotham in years, so i was kind of excited, i guess. but,” bruce looks at him, expression changing into full blown concern. “jeremiah?”

 

“what did jerome say?” he manages to get out, looking over at his phone.

 

“he asked what days specifically, and,” bruce hesitates, so jeremiah looks at him, gaining control over his expression again. “and that’s it.” jeremiah looks away from the teens concerned eyes, looking at his phone again. why didn’t jerome say anything? when did he find out? should he bring up that now he knows given they are fighting?

 

“jerome hates the circus,” he lies, and it’s almost as easy to do as it is with dr. thompkins.

 

“really?” bruce sounds genuinely shocked to hear that, and jeremiah wonders if maybe it was a bad lie. “he seems like the kind of person that would have been excited about something as crazy as a circus.”

 

“jerome is full of surprises,” he says dully, and it makes bruce smile, so he does, too, hoping to stray away from the circus topic. “and secret fears, apparently. although he doesn’t ever admit when he’s afraid. sometimes i’m not sure he feels true fear.”

 

“which can be a dangerous thing, considering how often he steals things.” bruce says, expressing the same thoughts jeremiah has been having for eight years.

 

“you wouldn’t _believe_ how many times i’ve said that to jerome,” he says, annoyed, but thankful for the topic change. “he doesn’t listen to anyone, really. not even me sometimes.”

 

“i guess i shouldn’t bring up the circus again. that’s good to know.” it falls silent for a few seconds. “you know, it’s funny, and i mean this in nice way,” and jeremiah already feels like he should be offended. “but i always start a conversation with one of you, and then it ends up being about the other twin, and something you need to complain about.” jeremiah blinks a couple times, somewhat confused. “like when i asked jerome about who he was, the conversation eventually led to him telling me something about you that he can’t talk to you about,” and now jeremiah _does_ feel offended, because what the hell is jerome saying about him to bruce?

 

“and then i start off asking you questions about you, and now the conversation is something about jerome that you can’t talk to him about.” and _oh_ , now he understands better. trying to talk to jerome about how reckless he is is like talking to a cinder block. still, the question remains, _what the hell is jerome saying about him_?

 

“what exactly does he complain about?” he finally asks as casually as he can, but bruce just shakes his head, raising his eyebrows.   


 

“he told me stuff in confidence that i wouldn’t tell,” and jeremiah sighs dramatically, hating that answer. “it’s nothing mean, i promise. just something he says you’re stubborn about as well.” he supposes he should know what he’s stubborn about, but he truly doesn’t. he looks at bruce, who just stares back with a twinkle in his eye. he’s at least enjoying himself.

 

“i’m not that stubborn about things,” and bruce is trying to hold back a smile. “i’m _not_.”

 

“he insists, stubbornly,” and now jeremiah is smiling, shaking his head at the absurdity. it’s funny how one person can make you forget how shitty things have been lately within just a few hours. he checks his phone for the time, seeing it’s now eleven-thirty, and jerome has been gone for two and a half hours. he could be home soon. “is something wrong?” jeremiah looks at bruce, shaking his head quickly.

 

“oh, no, um,” he rushes to say reassuringly as he sits his phone back down, and turns back towards bruce. “just checking the time. see if it’s too early to start drinking.” he says it in a way that’s supposed to be joking, but part of him _is_ starting to get impatient.

 

“is it?” bruce asks, still smiling a little. he nods, not hiding his disappointment very well. “i didn’t know you were..” bruce trails off, and jeremiah isn’t sure what he is planning to say. he waits patiently as bruce looks away, cringing a little. “it might sound offensive, like _everything_ i’ve said to you today, but i didn’t know you were a _drinker_.” jeremiah furrows his eyebrows, not fully understanding. he’s drank with bruce before, and he’s aware of his small collection of whiskies.

 

“i mean, a _habitual_ drinker, i guess is a nice way to put it,” the teen licks his lips, distracting jeremiah for a few seconds, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by bruce. he feels heat rise to his cheeks, though he thinks it’s also because of what bruce is insinuating.

 

“i, um,” he swallows. bruce’s eyes move slowly to his throat. “i do drink probably at least one glass a day, but i wouldn’t say it’s a _problem_.” the teen locks eyes with him again and looks regretful.

 

“no, i didn’t mean to say you had a problem,” his eyes turn a little bitter. “i would know what a real drinking problem looks like.” and _ah, yes_ , jeremiah had seen stories in newspapers jerome would bring home for him about the teen billionaire's lifestyle. “i was drinking day and night until i passed out,” bruce looks away from him, face going serious. jeremiah doesn’t even bother being subtle as he studies the teen’s profile. “most of the time i’d wake up with multiple strangers. it was a disturbing phase, to say the least.” jeremiah feels his expression go bitter at the mental image of someone else with bruce, taking advantage of his bad mental state, and then his twin joins the picture, and he thinks he might decide to get a drink regardless of the time.

 

“i admit i still drink, but nothing at all like i used to, or as often, and my real relationships are better.” he looks at jeremiah again, a small smile gracing his features, and he isn’t sure he could look away even if he wanted to. “and now i’ve made the conversation about _me_.” bruce laughs out, lightening up the situation again. he smiles at the teen.

 

“it’s nice hearing about you from you, too, actually.” jeremiah admits softly. “you’re the talk of gotham, so of course i know your _image_ ,” he pauses, wondering if he should even keep talking. “but knowing you is very different. you’re young, but you were forced to grow up ridiculously fast. i understand that. i fear we have more in common that i have yet to discover.”

 

bruce’s eyes search is face, making him more nervous than he already is. “why fear?” jeremiah looks away, twisting his fingers together harshly.

 

“just in the sense that we have negative things in common so far,” he takes a deep breath. “tragedies at a young age, forced to grow up in a world we didn’t understand yet, have had a drinking problem, and our parents are dead.” jeremiah freezes, the last words feeling wrong. he looks at bruce a bit panicked. “i’m sorry, that, um, that came out a bit _harsh_ -“

 

“it’s fine, jeremiah,” but bruce looks sad anyway. “you’re right. it seems we only have the negative things in common. although i didn’t know about your parents. i’m sorry.”

 

“don’t be.” his voice comes out more robotic and cold than he intended, and he hopes it doesn’t unsettle bruce, doesn’t make him start to ask about his past. “i think, if you don’t mind, i’m going to get a drink.” bruce shakes his head, eyes no longer twinkling and smile no longer there. jeremiah stands up and quickly makes his way to the cabinet of whiskey, pouring two fingers into a glass and taking a small sip, taking in the slow burn and strong taste. he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before heading back to the couch.

 

“i’m sorry for drinking so early,” jeremiah apologizes solemnly. “but as you know, things aren’t good, and i’m a bit on edge still.” he sits the glass on the table as he sits on the edge of the couch, clasping his hands together.

 

“no need to apologize,” bruce says. “though i do hope things get better.” he glances at the teen, feeling incredibly on edge for reasons he isn’t completely sure of. he picks up the glass and shakily takes another sip, but feels bruce move closer on the couch, sitting on the edge as well. he swallows, and starts to lower the glass, when bruce’s hand reaches out and takes it gently, his mind flashing back to the teen taking his glass before asking to hug him. he feels a panicked anticipation of what is on bruce’s mind. he watches carefully as bruce raises the glass to his own lips, taking a good sized sip and cringing a little. it makes jeremiah smirk for a second. he leans forward and sits the glass down, jeremiah’s hands resting flat against his own thighs, body somewhat stiff. he wishes he could be as relaxed as bruce. the teen turns his attention back on him, the blue lights making his eyes look dark in comparison, his skin pale and tinted blue. he swallows and waits.

 

“can i touch you?” the words are spoken softly, but they hit jeremiah like punch to the face. he lets out a shaky breath and opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. he isn’t sure how to answer that.

 

“i think so,” he says, very unsure, not knowing where bruce is going with this. his question was broad, vague, and unspecific. he clenches his hands on his legs before relaxing them again, trying to be more at ease. bruce just blinks.

 

“where?” and jeremiah is _definitely_ nervous now, because bruce is asking _him_ where, and he doesn’t know, he was hoping _bruce_ would know, since he's the one who asked in the first place. he shakes his head. “where are your limits? what do you like? what do you not like?” and he’s starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, but he understands the questions and thinks he can answer them. he notices bruce’s fingers twitch in his own lap.

 

“um, my limits,” he starts off shakily. “normal human boundaries, i suppose. i don’t mind the hands, or shoulders. i don’t need a, uh, a warning, i guess,” he’s stumbling a lot, and he glances at the little bit of whiskey left in the glass. “there isn’t something i think i need to mention to you specifically that i don’t particularly like, as long as i can see the action coming. the back is probably worth mentioning.” he looks up as bruce nods, taking in everything he’s saying. “just, please, if you are going to sneak up on me, don’t touch me. scare me with quiet words instead.” jeremiah can’t stop his eyes from glancing at bruce’s mouth, words flying through his head that he knows he can’t say out loud.

 

“i think i can remember that,” bruce finally says. “don’t hesitate to tell me when i’m out of line, jeremiah.”

 

“i doubt you could be,” he blurts it out without truly thinking first, his face heating up again, but he maintains eye contact, watching bruce’s eyebrows raise a little and the twinkle returning. he clears his throat and reaches for the glass, downing the rest of it, debating on getting up to put it back by the whiskey, to put distance between them-

 

bruce’s hand touches his wrist. he completely freezes.

 

“can you put the glass down?” bruce asks, his voice far too serious. “please?” he doesn’t dare look at the teen, and simply sits it down, his hand moving away from his wrist. “tell me if i’m out of line.”

 

jeremiah almost jumps as his hand moves to rest on his knee, and he stares at it as if it isn’t really there. bruce’s body turns even more towards him, their knees pressing together now as his hand moves up slightly above it. jeremiah thinks his heart is going to absolutely explode.

 

and then jerome runs through his mind, the text he sent to bruce, the scratches on his twin’s back, the marks that are probably on bruce’s body under that _damn_ sweater, marks that bruce is aware came from his twin-

 

he puts his hand over bruce’s, initiating a form of contact, shocking himself and bruce. he can feel the heat of bruce’s palm through his slacks, and it’s intoxicating.

 

“i’m not him,” he doesn’t know why he says it at all, but for some reason, jeremiah feels it’s necessary. there are times even he forgets he and jerome are two separate people. he can’t blame bruce. the teen doesn’t respond or move, just lets them sit for a few moments.

 

“i know,” he finally says gently, the words making something in him crack. “i know, jeremiah.” bruce’s hand moves out from under his, and he feels disappointment, feels like it makes sense for bruce to leave now, after being reminded of who he’s touching. but bruce’s hand is moving up, and his palm rests on his shoulder, and he’s grateful that it isn’t an intimate gesture this time, but he’s still unsure what to do with what’s happening. and yet when it moves up to cup the side of his neck, he lets himself lean into the teen’s hand, the way he does with jerome, and he has to remind _himself_ now, that this isn’t _jerome_ , this is _bruce_ , and it makes a heat fill his body that he rarely feels. bruce’s free hand grabs his right hand and brings it to the teen’s chest, the sweater soft to the touch. bruce presses on it, and jeremiah can feel his heartbeat, and he _understands_.

 

he understands that bruce may look relaxed, but his heart is beating as fast as his own.

 

jeremiah finally looks at bruce, never feeling this kind of fear before, if that’s even what he’s truly feeling. his cheeks are flushed, too, and his eyes are moving quickly over jeremiah’s face. he looks down at their hands over bruce’s heart, and jeremiah gets an ugly thought, can feel jealousy course through him. without fully realizing, he moves his hand away from the teen’s heart and up to the side if his neck, mirroring bruce. he hooks his fingers in the top of the turtleneck sweater, too aware of his harsh breathing and shaky hand. he tugs.

 

there’s a barely audible gasp, and bruce’s hand moves fast to grab his wrist, stopping all movement, and jeremiah feels everything in him collapse. he clenches his jaw, blinking slowly.

 

“jeremiah-“ bruce breathes out.

 

“please,” he begs quietly, “i need to see. i need to know.” but bruce’s grip tightens.

 

“some things are better left unknown,” bruce uses his own words against him, and it makes him hurt, and he bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

“but i already know, don’t i?” he says, defeat clear in his voice, and then bruce’s hand loosens, so he opens his eyes and tugs again. he glimpses the top of a dark purple bruise and he stops, he lets the fabric slip from his fingers, because he thought he could do it, but he can’t. he lets out a shaky breath and pulls his hand away completely, turning away to stand up, to put distance between them like he should have a long time ago.

 

“jeremiah, please,” bruce says calmly, but he ignores him. he grabs his glass and phone and walks away to pour another drink, putting down his phone and the glass a little harder than he probably should have. “we were _drunk_ -“

 

“but it was going to happen eventually, bruce,” he says, voice calm, cold, as he refills his glass. “not that it’s my business. you’re my friend, after all.” he downs the whole glass, holding his breath, tears burning in his eyes. “you’re my employer.” the words come out cold, robotic, the voice he knows even jerome hates to hear. he doesn’t feel guilty. he should.

 

“please don’t let me come between you and jerome,” bruce says it pleadingly, and it’s strange, because he was going to say the same thing about himself getting between bruce and his twin. “he cares about you so much, jeremiah.”

 

“he doesn’t remember,” he says it bitterly, but since bruce can’t see his face, he lets himself smirk. “he really doesn’t.” the room falls quiet, and the human part of him is telling him he is being too cruel, he is getting too involved, that this really isn’t his business.

 

“i’m sorry,” bruce’s voice is deep, truthfully regretful like jerome, and it makes him all the more angry.

 

“you both keep saying that to me,” he finally turns around, and sees that bruce is standing up, too, the couch between them. “but _why_? it’s what you both wanted to happen. you both made the decision. neither of you regret it, so why are you sorry, bruce? don’t be. don’t let _me_ come between you and jerome.” he half turns away again, tapping his fingers on the glass cabinet top anxiously. “i should stick to what i’m good at, you know?” he swallows, somehow managing to go emotionless again. “creating, using my mind, being logical. none of this is _logical_ , i’m being ridiculous and-and _i’m_ the one out of line. emotions are messy, and unnecessary, and i’ve worked so hard to keep emotions at bay, but-“ he stumbles, feeling the exact emotions he’s speaking against start to spill over. “but then _you_ come along, and offer me everything i could _dream_ of, and-“ he stops, embarrassed by the cracking in his voice. he considers a third drink, but being drunk when jerome gets home might get messy. then again, things already are. what else does he have left to lose?

 

“because i believe in you, jeremiah,” and he hates hearing those words come from bruce. “i _care_ about you. there’s so much i want to learn from you, and learn about you, and to maybe even teach you things.” bruce is moving around the couch as he speaks, and his body feels like a trip wire pulled tight. “i want a professional friendship, but there’s just-there’s _something_ here, jeremiah. you _have_ to feel it, too. it _can’t_ just be me.” the teen’s voice is whispery and a bit desperate, and he has to close his eyes, because he doesn’t want to _see_ that desperation now that bruce is only a few feet to his left.

 

“you feel it with jerome, too,” he wants it to be cold and bitter, but this time it just sounds sad, broken. it sounds like him. “of course you do. how could you not?”

 

“it’s different than-“ but he doesn’t want to listen.

 

“you care about _me_ , and you want _him_ ,” he says through clenched teeth. “ _that’s_ the difference. you don’t want me.” jeremiah is starting to feel the panic bubble in his chest, and he isn’t sure what to do. he just knows he wants to keep talking. “you _want_ jerome, and i can’t blame you. he’s-he’s _jerome_. he’s everything i wish i could be, everything i wish i had, everything that _i_ want,” and he has to breathe, has to keep his eyes closed, because bruce has moved closer, can feel the heat from his body. “but you _care_ about me. you think i’m-i’m brilliant, and useful, and _just_ screwed up enough to keep you interested.” part of him knows he shouldn’t have said it, but why not? he really doesn’t have anything left to screw up by speaking his mind. if no one else wants to be open and honest about what’s happening, he might as well be the one to do it.

 

“i feel like i have to say it because no one else will,” his voice is shaking, and he _hates_ it, he hates being the weak half. “i’m smart and can do something good for once, so obviously you’re interested. but jerome,” he pauses, unsure where to go with that. “jerome is the kind of person you _want_ , that keeps your interest in a _better_ way, and that’s fine, i get that, i _really_ do,” _stop exposing yourself._ “but just because i _look_ like him doesn’t mean-“ he can’t get words out, doesn’t even know what to say, can’t find the right words to properly express what he is thinking.

 

“you’re right,” bruce finally speaks, his tone firm. “you _are_ two different people, and i feel _two_ different ways for you both, but my feelings for you are still _valid_ , jeremiah,” he opens his eyes, the statement making more sense than he would like. “even if you don’t want them to be, they are real.”

 

“no, i-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head, and finally makes eye contact with bruce, seeing the teen’s stern expression, but his eyes shimmering with rejection.

 

jeremiah doesn’t think.

 

his hands are moving to the sides of bruce’s face, and he takes a step closer, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s doing it so fast-

 

he kisses him.

 

he is kissing him.

 

his own eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are pressed firmly to bruce’s, and as realization sinks in, his hands loosen and he pulls back, his eyes opening in horror at what he just did, _what did he just do_ -

 

but bruce moves in as he moves away, his hands pulling at his shirt as the teen’s mouth crashes into his. he inhales sharply through his nose, and it feels like bruce has finally triggered the trip wire, something hot and akin to arousal exploding throughout his body. jeremiah doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing, with his mouth or his hands, and he thinks bruce suspects that, so he pulls away a little. his hands slide up to cup his jaw, eyes hooded and breathing as ragged as his own. bruce leans in again, slower this time, his lips slowly closing over his own.

 

jeremiah’s brain has absolutely short circuited.

 

bruce’s mouth opens a little before closing again, and he thinks maybe he is starting to understand what he should be doing. when they part enough again, jeremiah tests it for himself, slowly, shakily, and this time it’s bruce who inhales sharply. the teen steps even closer, their chests brushing, lips pressing harder, and jeremiah’s hands move to hover over bruce’s waist-

 

a loud, obnoxious noise coming from their right has jeremiah jumping away from bruce, terror flooding all other emotions, and he looks to find the source is-

 

his phone vibrating on the glass cabinet.

 

it’s a phone call from jerome, and he feels disappointment, and a bit of regret, and a lot of fear and considers not answering. but he picks it up, clicking the green button.

 

“hello?” he says, somewhat agitatedly. there’s a pause.

 

“miah?” jerome says, as if he hadn’t said anything. “is, uh, is everything okay? i felt your panic in the store but waited until i got to the car to call.”

 

“yes,” is all he replies, keeping it short with bruce so close by.

 

“is bruce there?” his twin mumbles it as if the teen will hear him. he supposes he might be able to.

 

“yes,” he says simply again. his twin sighs.

 

“okay, well i’m on my way home now, and i have a shit ton of groceries to bring in.” and jeremiah can’t help the shaky sigh. “gonna need you to mentally prepare, okay? take a shot or two of whiskey.”

 

“i already have,” he says, already feeling exhausted. “just text when your outside.”

 

“look on the bright side,” his twin says cheerily. “you’ll have someone with you for once.” and jeremiah supposes that would be nice if it wasn’t for what just transpired. “or he could help me bring stuff in and get it done twice as fast?” for once, one of his twin’s suggestions sounds like a great idea.

 

“yeah, i’ll ask him to help.” he can feel bruce’s eyes move to land on him after he says it. “help you, not me.” jerome chuckles a little.

 

“either way is helpful for you. i can see the house so be ready, okay?” jeremiah nods, and remembers that, once again, he can’t be seen.

 

“yeah, okay. bye.”

 

“bye, miah.” the phone beeps at him signalling that jerome has hung up. he lowers the phone, not looking at bruce as he decides to pour a third drink.

 

“if you don’t mind,” he starts quietly, voice trembling. “jerome would like you to help bring in our groceries so that the process goes faster. the, um, the door has to stay unlocked while he makes trips, and, well,” he trails off, taking a sip, the alcohol no longer burning. “i’d like the door to be locked again as soon as possible.”

 

“of course,” bruce says just as quietly. “i’ll leave you be.” bruce starts to brush past him, and he doesn’t bother trying to stop his hand from reaching out and grabbing the teen by the arm above the crook of his elbow. he holds on tightly, his eyes squeezed closed as he tries to steady his breathing.

 

“i’d like to remain professional,” he whispers it, not really _wanting_ to say the words, but having to. “i need time, bruce.” the teen’s opposite hand rests on the one gripping his arm, so he loosens it a little, lets his face relax.

 

“let me know when the generator is complete,” bruce says softly, but his tone firm. _professional_. “i’ll be here.” his hand slides off of his own, and jeremiah lets him slip away. he thought bruce walking away would make breathing easier. it doesn’t.

 

they kissed.

 

his brain hasn’t even fully come to terms with what he’s done, and maybe it’s the liquid courage that made him do it, and maybe it’s why he can’t comprehend it.

 

he kissed bruce wayne.

 

he turned down bruce wayne.

 

_he turned down bruce wayne._

 

he feels hot tears fill his eyes, his heart betraying him as it breaks. he hears the alarms sound, but he doesn’t care. he shakily downs the rest of his whiskey slowly, feeling like he might throw up. the world around him feels like it’s disappearing, and he lets out a silent sob, hand covering his mouth as his body shakes.

 

jeremiah thought he had nothing more to lose.

 

but now he thinks he’s about to lose it all.

 

including himself.

 

-

 

jeremiah doesn’t know how much time passes after the alarm sounds for the final time. he hasn’t moved from where he’s standing, and he doesn’t really see a reason to. there’s nothing good waiting for him outside of this room.

 

plus there’s plenty of whiskey.

 

he thinks maybe he’s had six glasses, and feels the alcohol making his brain a bit slow. he needs that feeling. it’s comforting, calming. he needs to be comforted. if he can’t get it from jerome, he’ll get it this way. jeremiah doesn’t even know if bruce left or stayed to continue his conversation with jerome. he admits to feeling a bit guilty for not telling the complete truth to bruce. yes, jerome doesn’t remember, but he knows it happened. jeremiah just wanted bruce to hurt the way he did.

 

the way he still does.

 

he thinks kissing bruce was a desperate attempt to show what he was feeling, but he doesn’t actually know how to properly kiss someone. so bruce started to take over, but he isn’t sure why bruce kissed him back. he doesn’t know if it was his own desperate attempt, or to try to prove he _does_ want jeremiah.

 

maybe he was trying to prove to himself that jeremiah wasn’t jerome.

 

maybe he wanted to see if they felt different, tasted different, smelled different, kissed different. he’s sure bruce got an answer to all of those things, and he’s sure that things tilt in jerome’s favor when it comes to comparing them. because that’s what this is about, isn’t it? comparing them and seeing who’s the better choice.

 

jeremiah knows which one of them it is, and he hates himself for ever having any hope it could have been him.

 

jeremiah remembers the first few times jerome brought up bruce, and all the suggestive comments his twin had made. he had never felt more insecure in his life until his brother’s interest was pointed at someone _other_ than him, and the fact that it was _bruce wayne_ did not make him feel any better. he supposes he should have known from the beginning that jerome was going to eventually make a move on the teen, and in a way, he _had_ known.

 

he just didn’t anticipate his own feelings for bruce.

 

but jerome had.

 

jerome _knew_ jeremiah would be absolutely smitten with bruce the moment he realized who he was, and yet here they all are. jerome made his choice regardless, and he doesn’t hold that against him. bruce is incredible. but jeremiah was never meant to have him.

 

he was meant to orbit around bruce the way the moon orbits the earth, never touching him, never getting too close, never colliding despite how much he wants to. because his dark side is much too dark, and bruce deserves better than him. and he feels his dark side start to take hold, the bitterness and resentment clawing it’s way up his throat. why would jerome even introduce them? why couldn’t he just keep bruce to himself, never telling him who he was fooling around with like every other time?

 

he knows deep down it’s because jerome wanted to help him, wanted to make a long lost dream come true, and it makes his heart hurt. he knows this was never jerome’s intention. he wishes it was, so that he could be angry, so that he could hate his twin, although he doesn’t think he could ever hate jerome. even if he does continue a form of relations with bruce, he couldn’t hate him.

 

he would just live a miserable, jealous life.

 

it isn’t even something he can talk to doctor thompkins about, because normally he would. he truly does enjoy speaking to her and getting professional, stable, reliable advice, all the while knowing it is confidential and won’t be shared. at the thought of her, he remembers he emailed about an appointment but never checked for a response. he hasn’t had the time. his laptop is in his main office, but he certainly isn’t leaving this room anytime soon. it can wait until tomorrow.

 

he’s about to pour a seventh glass when he hears gentle knocking on the door. jeremiah freezes. is he really hearing that?

 

“i know i said i wouldn’t pester you,” his twin’s muffled voice calls out from the other side of the door. “but you lied, and i know something definitely happened, and i had a talk with bruce.” jeremiah is not opening the door for him.

 

the door swings open slowly, and he curses under his breath for not locking it. he doesn’t bother turning around towards the now open door.

 

“i won’t come in, cause i’m not supposed to, but i just need to see that you’re fine.” jerome sounds tired and drained of energy, something he rarely hears.

 

“what did you talk about?” his words don’t really have spaces, and jerome is going to realize he’s drank more than the usual amount. he doesn’t really care.

 

“you,” he says bluntly. “i let him know i didn’t remember but knew it happened, and bruce casually threw in that you _also_ definitely knew it happened.” his twin sounds like he’s about to scold him the way a disappointed father might. he doesn’t really know what that’s like. “so why don’t you tell me what happened?”

 

jeremiah pours that drink, but doesn’t actually drink it. he just sits it down with a clank, his mind blanking out. “i think you summed it up, brother.” and it’s the dumbest thing he thinks he’s ever said out loud, and he snorts before letting out a giggle. “ _brother_? why did i say that?”

 

“miah, how many glasses of whiskey have you had while hiding in here?” his brother’s tone makes it seem like he’s concerned, but why would he be concerned? there isn’t any reason to be.

 

“four, six, eight, something around those numbers,” the sentence seems like it might make sense, so he continues his previous thought. “you know, it’s funny, you call me baby brother all the time, but i still forget that you _really are_ my brother sometimes!” he says, incredulous of his own stupidity. “it just doesn’t-you don’t _feel_ like a brother. you know? you-you feel like-“ he flounders searching for a word that expresses what jerome is to him, but he can’t find one, so he just picks up the glass and takes a long sip.

 

“maybe that should be your last one,” jerome says cautiously, but why? why cautiously? why concerned? he’s just drinking. it’s what he does. it’s normal. “you don’t get drunk often, and i’m not really sure you should be getting drunk alone.”

 

“but i’m not alone, now,” he points out. “you’re here. have my drink.” he holds the glass up over his shoulder, letting his heavy eyes close. it’s an invitation. then, the simple thought makes something click in his brain, eyes blinking open as he realizes too late the glass is slipping out from between his fingers. he expects to hear it shatter, but he doesn’t, and quickly whips his head around to see that jerome has managed to catch it one handed. he hadn’t even realized jerome was already behind him.

 

“it’s my fault,” he says brokenly to his twin, everything settling into place. jerome smiles in confusion sitting the glass down on the cabinet in front of them. he shivers as his twin’s arm brushes against his own.

 

“what’s your fault?” jerome leans gently against the cabinet, his chest a few inches away from jeremiah’s left shoulder. he wants to let himself fall against his twin. he doesn’t. yet. “miah?” he tried to regain his focus, but then his twin leans in closer, and sure, maybe he’s imagining all of this, maybe he’s hallucinating. it happens often enough. “what was your fault?”

 

“i invited you in here, in my private, personal room, where it feels private and personal,” he says solemnly. “i didn’t even know what i was doing. i didn’t see it, j, but-but _he_ did, he saw it, and i’m-“ he sighs, his brain not going as fast as he would like. he clenches his hands into fists. he remembers the way bruce looked at him as he worked, the way bruce's eyes went dark when jeremiah invited him to a private, comfortable space, and it all makes _horrible_ sense.  


 

“why don’t you wait until tomorrow to tell me?” jerome says softly, a hand landing on his shoulder firmly. “when you’re sober and not gonna say too much.” but jeremiah just scoffs, shaking his head.

 

“what’s the point of keeping stuff from you? keeping stuff to yourself will just mean it will come out eventually,” he opens his eyes, cold fear weighing him down. “everything comes out eventually.” he looks over at jerome, who is trying to keep his expression unimpressed. he sees right through it. he sees the worry. “you think _i’ll_ hate _you_ ,” he huffs out a laugh, but tears form in his eyes. “wait until _you_ find out.” his twin just shakes his head and slides his hand to the opposite shoulder, arm encircling his shoulders, tugging him gently away from the whiskey.

 

“let’s go lay down, and not talk for a few hours,” jerome suggests. “and you can talk to me when you start to sober up.” jeremiah barely notices them leave, but he sees his bed and suddenly his bones feel like they are filled with cement, but his limbs are acting like pudding, and it doesn’t make _any_ _sense_. jerome helps him sit on his bed, and his glasses are removed, and his head is so damn blurry. he groans irritatedly, making jerome laugh quietly.

 

“this is why you don’t get drunk, miah,” jerome whispers. “you can’t get your precious brain to work, and you get all grumpy about it.” and jeremiah wishes so, _so_ badly jerome hadn’t made moves on bruce, because now jeremiah wants to just forgive him, invite him into his bed, forget it happened, but then he remembers what _he_ did, and jerome doesn’t even know yet, and he needs to tell him before he finds out the way he found out. “boy, you are thinkin’ awfully hard about something. i can _feel_ those gears turning,” jerome jokes, but jeremiah suddenly notices that his cheeks feels wet. he tries to open his eyes, but everything is incredibly blurry, so he lets them close again.

 

“hey, woah, don’t, uh,” jerome is suddenly fumbling over his words. “i was just messin' with ya.” and _oh_ , jerome thinks it’s the _joking_.

 

“i know you don’t regret bein’ with him, and i know that isn’t why you’re sorry,” jeremiah mumbles out. “you’re sorry that i found out about it.” jerome is completely silent as he sniffles and wipes at his face clumsily. “ _i’ll_ be sorry if you find out from not me,” and jeremiah would laugh at the poor sentence, but something tells him it isn’t the time to laugh.

 

“you can tell me later-“ his twin grabs at his wrists gently but he thinks he is going to throw up, so he quickly moves a hand to his mouth, hearing jerome murmur ‘ _fuck_ ’. his stomach is swirling, and he feels _really_ hot, and he thinks he’s being moved from his bed but it feels like what he thinks being thrown off of a _very_ upset elephant would feel like. he’s on his knees, and he can feel jerome right next to him, running a hand down his back. then the heat spreads rapidly and he feels it in his throat-

 

jeremiah hasn’t truly vomited since the last time he got drunk, which was probably months ago. he has  _not_ missed the feeling. the alcohol coming back up with stomach bile is unpleasant, and he curses himself for not eating anything today. he grabs at what he’s assuming is the toilet bowl, starting to feel empty, refocusing on jerome’s hand low on his back. he hears the faucet turn on and off and one of his hands gently lifting his head up. he feels a cool wetness around his mouth, soaking in the relief, tears leaving his eyes still. the coolness vanishes, but jerome’s hand pets his hair.

 

“you done?” jerome asks. jeremiah nods. “wanna brush your teeth, make them pearly whites again?” he nods again, scoffing quietly. jerome helps him stand, holding him steady at the sink. he grabs jeremiah’s toothbrush and puts toothpaste on it, getting it wet before handing it over. he loosely takes it, and slowly brushes his teeth before scrubbing at his tongue. jerome remains blissfully silent. he spits and sticks his mouth under the running water, swishing it around before spitting it out. his body feels heavy and loose again but his brain isn’t quite as blurry.

 

“half of the alcohol just left your body so maybe you’ll sober up faster,” jerome puts an arm around his waist. “c’mon, this time we are really laying down.” jeremiah groans as they start to walk back to his room, leaning heavily against his twin. when he sees his bed, sadness bubbles in his chest, because he knows jerome will leave him here, and things will go back to being bad, and he hasn’t even had the chance to tell jerome anything that happened.

 

he stops, and so does jerome, who sighs heavily. “i’m really sorry i did it,” he looks at his twin, moving to put his arm up around his shoulders, hanging on tightly. “i want you to know i _actually_ regret it.” jerome just looks at him with pity.

 

“i don’t know what you mean, but i believe you.” jeremiah can’t look away from jerome, even as he looks away and starts to move them towards his bed. jeremiah puts his free hand on his twin’s chest to try and stop them from going further, because he hasn’t _told_ him yet, if he would just _wait_ -

 

“you don’t even _know_ yet, you don’t-you don’t know why i’m sorry-“ jeremiah moves around in front of jerome, because he doesn’t want to lay down, doesn’t want jerome to leave yet. jerome just raises his eyebrows, still keeping a hand on his waist to make sure he doesn’t fall.

 

“miah, i don’t want to hear why you’re sorry,” jeremiah doesn’t want to wait, so if jerome doesn’t want to hear it, then- “wait until you’re sober-“ he slowly leans forward, and lets his lips press gently against jerome’s for two seconds, before pulling back slowly, his eyes slipping closed.

 

jerome is frozen, and jeremiah blinks his eyes open, looking at his twin's shocked expression.

 

“you didn’t wanna hear, so, i showed you, and _that’s_ why i’m sorry,” he slides his arm off of jerome’s shoulders and rests both hands on his twin’s chest. “i regret doing that to ‘em. i _regret_ it, j, and i don’t know what to do.” he thinks he might start crying again, so he tries to take a deep breath, body starting to sway a little.

 

“please, god, don’t let him remember this,” he hears his twin grumble, and he feels himself falling, but he doesn’t really mind. he lands softly, gently, and feels his blanket cover him. “don’t make him regret it twice.” jeremiah doesn’t really get what that means. how do you regret something twice? “if you remember this, don’t you _dare_ get pissed at me, and don’t you _dare_ do something stupid over it.” and now jeremiah is very confused, and his mind feels like it’s spinning. he thinks maybe he missed something. he remembers throwing up. he remembers that vividly. that’s all that’s really clear anymore.

 

“j?” he whispers, already scared to be alone like this. “i don’t wanna be alone, please,” he sounds stupid begging, but he doesn’t think jerome will stay otherwise. “please?” he hears jerome sigh, and the bed dips, but he doesn’t get under the blanket with him. “that means you won’t be here when i wake up.” and it’s probably the only thing he’s said that has made any sense.

 

“you’ll throw a hissy fit if you wake up in bed with me, after everything that happened,” jerome cups his face gently, his thumb stroking his cheek. “so yeah, i’ll be gone when you wake up.” jeremiah tried not to let the disappointment and fear show on his face, but his body betrays him. “hey, i’ll be here while you’re still awake. i promise i won’t leave until i’m sure you’re asleep, okay?” jeremiah reluctantly nods. “now go to sleep.” he wants to open his eyes and look at his twin, wants to see him this close one last time before he runs away from jerome. but everything is heavy and his brain is starting to go quiet. suddenly, a thought floats into his head.

 

jerome doesn’t remember anything from that night.

 

“said it back,” he mumbles with purpose.

 

“said what back, weirdo?” and he should have probably realized there was no context to what he said.

 

“when you texted me. said it back in bed. before you fell asleep. but you don’t remember." jeremiah pauses, waiting for a response. "love you."

 

he hears jerome take a deep breath, before letting it out, the air hitting him warmly on the cheek. everything is quiet, and jeremiah thinks he’s ready to fall asleep now. he grabs on to jerome’s wrist, his twin’s hand still holding his face gently.

 

“yeah,” jerome whispers. “love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what! did! you! think!!! let me know in the comments. i love them very much! were you surprised by things in this chapter? are you excited that miah even had the nerve to kiss him? how depressed are you? how conflicted are you? next chapter is jerome's pov. how do you think jerome feels about everything? and what do you think bruce’s thoughts were like? DO YOU THINK MIAH WILL REMEMBER? also, if yall know where the digits for his phone pass-code are from...you are true detectives. even i had to go back and check what numbers i wrote in a previous chapter. (; ANYWAYS i wanna know everyone's thoughts!!! spill them all! i love you ❤️❤️❤️


	13. the candy universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took so damn long and i am so so sorry for that. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter, i worked so hard on it. i struggled with some serious writers block for the first time ever, and trying to get over my insecurities and the mindset that not very many people are still reading this story. i’m thankful for the constant commenters letting me there are people still reading AND enjoying my work. i'm happy with how this chapter turned out! i had some great motivation help from someone who is very dear to me that i can't thank enough. enjoy everyone! ❤️

jerome is looking at headphones for jeremiah when it hits him.

 

he feels the faint beginnings of a panic attack.

 

he becomes a bit worried so he tosses a pair of earbuds in the cart and heads towards the checkouts, wanting to get out soon just to be safe. he checks his phone, seeing it’s been over two hours. jerome wanted to be sure they had time to work.

 

and whatever else they decided to do.

 

jerome can admit that he was a bit on edge about leaving them completely alone. it’s the first time jerome hasn’t been lurking somewhere, or only being gone for fifteen minutes. two hours is a long time together. granted, his twin claims they will be working, but judging by the panic growing in his chest, jeremiah has gotten out of his peaceful head-space and they have started to talk. he gets everything bagged and put back in the cart, the total not being as high as it should be (thanks to the wonderful invention of self checkouts). he heads for the car in the far end of the parking lot, keeping a careful eye for anyone who might be following him. jerome starts loading stuff in the trunk quickly, and when he runs out of room, he starts loading them in the back. he looks at the old, dirty, white chevy malibu and feels a sad pang in his chest. if only he could steal that lamborghini. the brat doesn’t need it. he hops in the car and puts his keys in the ignition when a very strong surge of panic and something less identifiable reminds him he should probably check on jeremiah and let him know he’s on his way home. he will call when he gets closer to home. jerome starts the car and pulls away from the shopping center, heading back through gotham.

 

it's times like this when he can comfortably distinguish jeremiah’s feelings from his own. he’s not in a situation where he would be feeling any kind of panic, and it’s a rare feeling for him as it is, so he almost always knows it’s jeremiah’s. he can mostly tell them apart when he realizes that the feeling isn’t fully there, that it is more of a sixth sense. he feels jeremiah’s panic attacks clear as fucking day, but he isn’t actually having one himself, isn’t having the symptoms. it’s just a sense. he’s thankful that things only connect between them when it’s a particularly strong feeling, though he thinks it might be a bit exposing, to say the least.

 

they grew up side by side with zero privacy and zero ‘normal’ human boundaries, but jerome didn’t really think they _needed_ them. what the fuck did it matter if they shared everything? it’s not like they had a _choice_ in most situations, and when they did, they chose to share, to stay together. when you’re so connected with someone, it’s just normal. fuck everyone else, jerome thinks. they don’t understand. they will _never_ understand what it’s like to have a twin, to be so close to a single person. sometimes he feels they might be too close, and it’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to be, but it makes him realize a lot of things about jeremiah that, in the back of his mind, he doesn’t think brothers _should_ know about each other, much less twins. then again, jerome also doesn’t care. no, they aren’t normal, but who the fuck gets to be normal? and who _expects_ them to be normal? the only person who’s aware of both of them right now is bruce wayne, and the kid doesn’t even know what he’s walking into.

 

he’s excluding the circus people, because he’s sure most of them have pretty much forgotten about them by now. most of them. same with those snobby teachers and stuck up children they went to school with for a year. all of them would have definitely forgotten about them. they made sure to stay on the down low while at school, going against his nature, but it was for the best. no one really paid them any attention. it’s like they knew they were freaks from a circus. they had enough brains to not fuck with them though. the people who took them in weren’t that smart, however.

 

he’s close to the outskirts of the city when the panic hits him in a sudden wave, so he attempts to get his phone out of his back pocket to call jeremiah and see what the hell is going on. he opens the phone, eyes carelessly off of the road, and pulls up his contacts, ready to call -

 

he freezes and raises his eyes away from his phone, carefully hitting the breaks and slowing down.

 

what the fuck?

 

is jeremiah...

 

 _aroused_?

 

he can still feel the panic, but the strong heat is starting to spread over the top of it, masking it, taking over, and what the _fuck_? jerome’s heart beats harder in his chest, and he clicks on jeremiah’s name to call him, moving the phone to his ear.

 

after jeremiah’s stony answer and the shaky conversation, he enters the house with a few bags, finding bruce already waiting in the middle of the living room, looking calm and collected. he doesn’t buy it for a second. his own heart is still beating too hard.

 

“jeremiah sent me out to help,” bruce says softly, and something about it makes him want to grind his teeth together. he walks past quietly and sits the bags on the island, and motions for bruce to follow him. the alarms sounding every time the door is opened and closed is annoying the fuck out of him, but with him and bruce both working quickly, the door is closed and locked sooner than usual, sighing in relief as the alarms sound for the final time.

 

“only took us two minutes,” he breathes out, tossing the last two bags on the floor. “though it was probably a lifetime for jeremiah. i should probably go check and see if-“ bruce appears in front of him, eyes downcast, a gentle hand on his chest.

 

“we need to talk first,” and jerome blinks slowly, feeling anger boil at being told he can’t go check to see if jeremiah is okay, but bruce looks up at him, his eyes full of regret and guilt and jerome needs to know what the fuck he did to his brother.

 

“didn’t i tell you,” jerome says quietly, his voice rough. “that if you hurt jeremiah-“

 

“i know, but-but it’s not-“ bruce sounds a bit desperate, eyes looking away from him again. jerome starts to try to move around him but bruce’s words have him freezing. “do you even remember? or did you just figure it out?” jerome closes his eyes, sighing heavily. the words are quiet, and he can’t even pretend to not know what he means by that.

 

“i don’t really want to have this conversation _right now_ ,” he stresses the words ‘right now’, because sure, maybe _eventually_ they can talk about it, but there are other things they could be doing instead that he’s sure he would much rather do.

 

“did you tell him?” and oh, the way bruce asks it has his heart stopping, because it isn’t asked out of curiousity, or if he’s broken the news to his dear brother. no, he’s asking if jeremiah also figured it out, or if jerome actually had the balls to tell him (he didn’t).

 

“what did you do, bruce?” he feels less angry and more drained, already dreading to hear the story.

 

“it’s hard to explain, but we really were working, at first,” and jerome already hates the sound of this. “and we got to a stopping point, so i offered to help with his phone. he suggested we go to his other office.” his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “the blue one.” _fuck_ , jerome thinks. even _he_ doesn’t get invited in there. “and i think-it just felt more personal, and we started talking about personal things and-“ bruce pauses, glancing at jerome, clearly embarrassed. “and i asked about his boundaries.” jerome’s eyebrows raise.

 

“boundaries?” he asks knowingly. “and what did you mean by boundaries, _brucie_?” he drawls out, watching the teen swallow, the motion disappearing under the neck of his sweater. the teen turns his head, the tendon in his neck becoming prominent, and jerome can’t stand it.

 

“i asked about touching boundaries, because i don’t want to make him uncomfortable, you know?” jerome looks up at his profile, seeing genuine sadness before its replaced by a firm expression that he can’t read anymore. “and he ended up touching me,” jerome takes a deep breath at that, trying not to show the shock he feels. “but i don’t think he did it with good intentions.” jerome tilts his head, not really liking the wording choice.

 

“what does that mean?” he can feel the deep ache in his chest, can tell that jeremiah is in pain, and he needs to know why.

 

“he touched me and then pulled down the neck of my sweater.” bruce says it softly, guiltily, and jerome suddenly understands the situation. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. _fuck_ , he thinks. _fuck_. “i didn’t know he would do that, or even think about it, so did you-did you _tell_ him, or did he just know?” jerome sighs harshly, a smile splitting through the bitter disappointment. he lets his hand fall away from his face, his eyes opening but not looking at the teen.

 

“he figured it out,” jerome eventually admits. “i don’t know how, but he did. and no, i don’t remember a thing. i wasn’t lying earlier when i said that.” he lets his eyes fall on bruce, watching his expression slip into something sad again. “but i admit i’m not surprised something happened.” he huffs a laugh out at bruce’s somewhat shocked expression. “what? do you honestly think i haven’t wanted to fuck you since you broke my damn nose? there’s no bigger turn on then violence.” and the poor kid looks absolutely lost for words. “i’m just being honest here, bruce. and i’d love to have a touching conversation about our _feelings_ and what happened that night,” he motions between them with a theatrical tilt to his voice. “but jeremiah shouldn’t be alone with his thoughts right now. so i’m gonna have to postpone that, okay?” he feels his expression going a bit wild, and he thinks some of jeremiah’s emotions are interfering with his own, which pisses him off a little.

 

bruce still looks shocked before more regret quickly starts to take over his pretty features. jerome’s manic smile falls. he’s starting to feel antsy. “jeremiah had started drinking before i left,” bruce adds quietly. “you should probably be wary of how much he’s had by now.” and damn it, the kid sounds so rejected that he can’t stand it. jerome rolls his eyes before stepping a little more into bruce’s space. the teen looks up at him cautiously, eyes moving quickly over his face. jerome just smiles again.

 

“i’m sorry that this happened,” he says lowly. “but i’m not sorry _it_ happened. so don’t get all depressed and brooding or i’ll kick your ass.” bruce’s eyes close, a small smile forming as he lets out a huff through his nose. “i need to go talk to him before he does something stupid. it is a drunk tradition, isn’t it?” he looks at all of the grocery bags sitting on the island with exhaustion. “i’m gonna ignore those, and you’re gonna go home. i’ll call you later?” bruce nods, still looking guilty but a little less sad.

 

“let me know if he’s okay,” bruce looks at his watch, one that he desperately wants to swipe, and sighs. “i’m still allowed to worry, right? even though it’s my fault?” jerome shakes his head with a smile.

 

“yeah, for sure,” he turns away and starts heading towards the front door, cueing him that it’s time to go. the panic in his chest has started to vanish, but there’s still a deep sadness. it’s partially his own fault, too. he unlocks the door silently, and bruce is about to open it, but jerome can’t really stand the way they had to dance around everything and the fact he wasn’t really taking it seriously. he never takes anything seriously. maybe this time he should prove he is actually serious about what’s going on. jerome grabs bruce’s shoulder firmly, making bruce tense up before relaxing under his hand. he moves into his space again, probably too close, but he isn’t really sure how else to prove himself except for-

 

well. jerome isn’t sure what he is doing.

 

bruce looks at him calmly, hand still on the door handle, as jerome drifts closer, probably looking as lost as he feels. he stops when his forehead is close to touching bruce’s, eyes falling closed as he takes a deep breath. he slides his hand up to cup the teen’s cheek softly, smiling at the way bruce leans into. he has felt a pull since the moment the kid entered the shady gas station, and the fact that he doesn’t remember how it feels to be so close, to kiss and taste him, his face as he came because of what jerome was doing to him has his jaw clenching in frustration. he wants to relive it and take in every detail.

 

he doesn’t feel comfortable with these thoughts.

 

he leans in and thinks briefly about kissing bruce, but decides to just kiss his cheek. the kid isn’t even breathing at this point, which gives jerome a confidence boost that he doesn’t really need. he pulls back with a toothy smile, watching bruce’s eyes reopen. jerome pulls on the door, the alarm sounding that it’s open, laughing at the way bruce’s expression quickly becomes annoyed.

 

“get out of here,” he swings his hand at the opened door, taking a step back. bruce opens the door more. “i’ll call later.” bruce looks over his shoulder, eyes going guilty again. he nods and jerome closes the door as he walks away, locking it. he takes a deep breath, refocusing on the sadness and guilt that is eating his twin up. jerome thinks his twin should feel some guilt, because why the hell would he pull a stunt like that? why would he go out of his way to put bruce on the spot? did he know that the kid remembered that night? suddenly it dawns on jerome that his twin must have been eavesdropping this morning, when bruce practically admitted to having some memory of that night. of course he eavesdropped. _fuck_ , he thinks for what feels like the hundredth time. _this is a disaster_. he prepares himself as he heads out of the living room and down the hallway to make sure jeremiah is okay.

 

-

 

jeremiah was _not_ okay.

 

he watches with what he thinks might be sympathy as his twin throws up all that damn whiskey that he drank too fast, along with the fact he doesn’t think jeremiah ate anything either. he moves away when it seems he’s done to get a wet towel, cleaning gently around his mouth, knowing his brother has done this for him countless times. he guesses he can do the same in return. good thing he removed his glasses earlier. they’d probably be in the toilet. he wouldn’t tell jeremiah it happened. he’d look at his twin knowing where those glasses have been and giggle ominously. it’d bug the shit out of jeremiah.

 

he refocuses on his twin’s glassy eyes, looking up at him like he just saved his life, and feels himself smile at the ridiculousness. when he removes the wet towel, jeremiah closes his eyes, looking like he just destroyed his world this time. he smiles wider despite himself. he helps him stand and brush his teeth in silence, watching amused as he sways a little, and almost falls over when he tries to rinse his mouth out with water from the faucet. he keeps a hand on his lower back, just in case, because as funny as it would be, he doesn’t think he should let jeremiah fall. jerome is dimly aware he shouldn’t be taking jeremiah’s drunken state so lightly, but what else is he supposed to do? it’s not like anyone _told_ jeremiah to do this to himself, he chose to, and he can deal with the shitty hangover tomorrow for it. jerome just wants to get him to bed safely.

 

and jeremiah must have a strong urge to apologize and drag out the space between jerome and his bed, because he keeps letting him know how sorry he is and how much he regrets it, not letting jerome lay him down, and he’s starting to get frustrated, because he doesn’t want jeremiah to say more than he would like. his twin puts a hand on his chest, begging to tell him, but -

 

“miah, i don’t want to hear why you’re sorry,” and miah is starting to look a bit angry, but he is doing the right thing for once. “wait until you’re sober-“ and what the _fuck_?

 

his body freezes as jeremiah leans too close and presses his lips to his. it doesn’t last long, it’s barely a kiss, but jerome is shocked and _what the fuck_? he watches as his twin’s eyes blink open and look at him somewhat blankly.

 

“you didn’t wanna hear, so, i showed you, and that’s why i’m sorry,” his tone is snarky, slurry, and he realizes jeremiah wasn’t making a move on him, he was doing it to get around jerome’s sober logic, and he could almost laugh at the fact that, even drunk, jeremiah finds a way to be a smart ass, but jeremiah’s hands are grabbing at his shirt, and his eyes shutter into regret, and the actual words his twin said sink in. “i regret doing that to ‘em. i _regret_ it, j, and i don’t know what to do.” he closes his eyes and sighs softly.

 

he kissed bruce. funny how the kid never mentioned it.

 

jerome looks at his twin, his watery eyes and flushed cheeks, his curls sticking to his forehead, and feels true pity for him. he doesn’t deserve this.

 

“please, god, don’t let him remember this,” he uses the hands still on his waist to move jeremiah back towards his bed, and gently lowers him to sit, and then fall back just as gently, lifting his legs up onto the bed. he pulls his blanket out from under his twin’s heavy body and covers him, swallowing as jeremiah tugs it up under his chin like a he used to as a kid. he blinks harshly at the thought of crying. how ridiculous. there’s not even a reason for him to cry. he hasn’t cried in years. “don’t make him regret it twice. if you remember this,” his own voice is quiet, as if jeremiah is already asleep. his normal self is, at least. “don’t you _dare_ get pissed at me, and don’t you _dare_ do something stupid over it.” he watches as jeremiah’s face scrunches up in confusion. jerome thinks he’s already forgotten.

 

his twin asks him to stay, so jerome gives in, deciding to stay until he’s passed the fuck out. he isn’t about to wake up with a very pissed jeremiah next to him. his twin asked him to leave him be, to give him time and space. he can’t let a sad, drunk miah try to convince him otherwise. his twin lets him know he told him he loved him back when he came home drunk that night, and jerome strangely feels a weight lifted knowing he wasn’t ignored. he watches as jeremiah’s face becomes peaceful, his breathing soft, his heartbeat slow. something feels strange.

 

jerome gets up gently, and makes his way out of his bedroom to go to the kitchen. he takes a deep breath, the groceries feeling like a burden. he hopes it hasn’t been too long for the milk and egg’s sake. he starts unpacking everything, getting lost in his thoughts for the first time since he sat with jeremiah as he worked.

 

jerome wonders if he even actually kissed bruce that night.

 

it wouldn’t be unlikely, but jerome isn’t the kissing type. sure, kissing can be necessary to start things off with someone, to get their attention, to set their mood. but once he gets them in a bed, or the back of a car, or in a locked office, kissing is out if the question. it’s unnecessary, too lovey dovey. he hasn’t kissed someone without intentions of manipulation or sex. he supposes if he kissed bruce that night, and they had sex, then that’s pretty normal for him. he wonders if they even had sex, or if they just did shit together. he doubts he actually fucked bruce, not drunk. he needs himself pretty sober to be capable of that. takes a lot more thinking than he would like with men. he wonders if he kissed bruce during.

 

jeremiah kissed bruce.

 

jeremiah _kissed_ bruce?

 

he wonders what lead his twin to do such a bold action. it sounded like he didn’t realize inviting bruce to that office was going to come off so, well, _suggestive_ , and that isn’t surprising. it’s not like his twin would know, not really. if it were jerome, yeah, it would have been obvious what he was insinuating, and he would have known what he was doing. but jeremiah isn’t the most knowledgeable on social things, and no one can really blame him for that. it’s still unclear what bruce’s reaction to jeremiah kissing him was. his twin’s reaction was to get drunk and wallow in self-pity and regret.

 

jeremiah also kissed him.

 

jerome really isn’t the kissing type, and he certainly doesn’t do it domestically or without intentions. so when jeremiah had kissed him quickly, gently, it had felt too close to normal than it should have for _several_ reasons. it’s something too intimate for them, and yeah, the cheek and forehead kissing jerome has done over the years could be considered intimate, he’s not gonna pretend it’s not. but for jeremiah’s sake, he hopes nothing happens again while they are less than sober. the last thing his twin needs is more secrets exposed.

 

he gathers up all the empty plastic bags and shoves them in the trash can, sighing in relief and letting his body slouch. he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and see it’s only one o’clock. what the hell is he supposed to do for the rest of the day? he’s already done his laundry this week, there aren’t any dishes, and he can’t leave the house until his twin is awake and safe. jerome thinks maybe he could sleep, too, considering he didn’t actually sleep that great last night, and jeremiah asked him to get up early to go grocery shopping.

 

he hasn’t been sleeping much lately.

 

every time he sleeps he has a weird memory dream, but they always end up distorted, always have a nightmarish twist at the end. he can’t stand it. not to mention all the shit going on has his brain running more than usual. he’s used to his quick moving brain, used to the constant flood of thoughts and plans and possibilities, but the bruce wayne thoughts added on top is making his brain run wild. it isn’t any better with jeremiah mixed in. his twin is usually involved in his ideas anyways, but now there’s bruce as one, and jeremiah as one, and jeremiah and bruce combined as one, and jerome and bruce combined as one, and the probably weird, yet not totally unsettling, idea of jerome and jeremiah and bruce, and that comes with the thought of jerome and-

 

he should go the fuck to sleep and stop his thoughts from running for one goddamn second. he rubs a hand over his eyes and starts to head to his bedroom, ready to sleep the rest of the day away. he can call bruce when he wakes up, as long as jeremiah is still passed out. who knows how long that will last, and god forbid he starts throwing up again upon waking. jerome’s not sure there’s enough left in him. he plops down on his bed, definitely glad he made this decision, because his body sinks into the mattress and his eyes already feel heavy. his brain is still running though, but it’s fine. he can deal with messy emotions when he wakes up.

 

-

 

jerome jolts awake, eyes wide open, his room dark but not empty. jeremiah stands above him, flinching away as jerome sits up harshly. his twin must have scared him awake. he takes a deep breath in an attempt to slow his heart down.

 

“you have _got_ to stop waking me up like that,” jerome jokes. “i’m gonna have a fucking heart attack-“ he stops at the look on jeremiah’s face, one of pure terror that he doesn’t see very often. “miah?”

 

“someone’s at the door,” he squeaks out, his eyes shining in the dim room, and jerome gets out of bed and jogs to where he knows jeremiah’s laptop is. when he gets to the office quickly and checks the screen, he sees- “j, who is it?” his twin asks quietly, his voice shaking. jerome swallows, his expression going firm. he shakes his head silently.

 

“miah, were you just checking the camera, or did something happen?” he asks instead, still squinting at the screen.

 

“i thought i heard an alarm, but i-“ his twin stutters. “i-i might have just dreamt it before fully waking up. but i checked anyways, just to ease my mind, but i-i saw-“ he feels jeremiah move in closer behind him, but his words stop when his own eyes land on the screen. “j, no-“

 

“are you _sure_ you saw someone?” jerome sighs out, looking at his twin tiredly. “i know you hear shit, but you can start to see shit, too-“ jeremiah is shaking his head violently.

 

“no, i swear to you i saw someone, and they were real, i know it, i-” jerome cuts him off before he can overwhelm himself.

 

“what did he look like?” he keeps his eyes on jeremiah, not wanting to miss any warning signs.

 

“she,” his twin corrects. “she was wearing all black, and had a lot of hair,” he motions around his head somewhat frantically, and jerome is a bit persuaded by the description. he looked long enough to see that it was female, and what color of clothes she was wearing, and to describe her hair. he doesn’t want to believe him, because nobody wants a stranger hanging around outside their house, but maybe this was real. he looks back at the screen. is it better to go along with this and freak jeremiah out, or tell him it was probably nothing and make him feel insane?

 

“let’s say someone was out there,” he says theoretically. “i can go out and check around the house.” but jeremiah is shaking his head.

 

“the alarms going off again that many times would just scare them off completely,” jerome’s gears start turning, and his twin sees it instantly. he shakes his head quickly, expression going grim. “no.” jerome puts his hand up in front of him defensively.  


 

“just listen,” he says firmly. “we turn the alarms off,” jeremiah is still shaking his head harshly. “and when i go out, turn them back on. you’ll hear me come back in.”

 

“i can’t,” jeremiah says quickly, but jerome isn’t letting go so easily.

 

“i’m not just gonna ask you to turn the alarms off and leave everything unlocked, jeremiah,” he says, but softens a little at his twin’s fear. “i’ll still lock everything like i always do. you know i will. and when you see me outside on the camera, turn the alarms back on.” he explains calmly, seeing his twin taking some deep breaths. “i wouldn’t do this if i didn’t believe you saw something.” jeremiah’s eyes close, before nodding hesitantly. jerome puts a hand on his shoulder firmly. “no one’s getting in but me. they are probably long gone anyways.” deep down, he’s not so sure, and he feels frustration at being so uncertain about this. there shouldn’t be anyone out there. why would there be? jeremiah’s eyes open, still shining with tears in the dark office, but his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed.

 

“i’ll turn them off,” jeremiah finally confirms quietly. “just please be quick out there. if someone is-“

 

“like i said,” he cuts off his twin firmly. “they are probably long gone by now.” jeremiah tilts his head at him as if he isn’t too sure of that either. jerome just smiles widely. “besides, it’ll be fun.” jeremiah scoffs. “it will be like a thriller movie! just keep your eyes on the screen and don’t move, ‘kay?” his twin wheels a chair closer and sits down, pulling the laptop in front of him. jerome watches him hesitate before turning the alarm system off.

 

“please be safe,” he pleads quietly, not looking at him. jerome ruffles his curly hair before turning away to walk out of the office.

 

“when am i ever?” he can’t help but joke as he heads down the hall, making a pit-stop in his bedroom to grab his pocket knife. he’ll be a little safe. when he gets to the front door, he unlocks it and opens it without a sound. it’s weirdly unsettling. he sticks to silence as he steps out of the house, closing the door gently and locking it. he takes a silent breath before giving a thumbs up to the camera with a toothy grin. he keeps the smile on his face as he steps off into the grass, looking around him. he wonders what time it is, considering it’s really dark out here. did he really sleep that long? he wonders how long jeremiah has been awake. he doesn’t seem weird about anything, but he supposes there are more pressing matters on his twin’s mind right now.

 

speaking of, he should probably focus a little more. jerome listens to the darkness, eyes moving around slowly, catching on one of the trees to his right. he tilts his head at it. someone could easily be behind any of these trees. they could also have run off a long time ago. they could be on the other side of the house for all he knows. so he just listens.

 

but he doesn’t hear anything.

 

jerome starts to walk around to the left and completely out of the camera’s view. he tries to keep his feet silent, but he’s not exactly a stealthy person. everything about him is loud and announcing. but this isn’t about him, or actually about having fun, this is about easing jeremiah’s mind. he doesn’t want to find anyone, because jeremiah will know he’s lying when he tells him no one is out there. it’s what he plans to tell him regardless of what he finds. he hopes it’s the truth.

 

he reaches the corner and is about to go around, when the slightest of noises from behind him makes him pause, but he decides to round the corner anyway, acting like he didn’t hear it. he presses himself up against the cold wall for a few seconds before peeking around the edge. he smiles at the sight of someone lowering themselves from the same tree that caught his attention earlier. they climbed up the tree? _very interesting_ , he thinks, a bit impressed. he licks his lips and pulls out his knife, seeing that the person definitely has a feminine figure. jeremiah was right. they have a hood up, and they land gently and elegantly on the ground, almost completely silent. it reminds him of a cat. if jerome hadn’t of heard them earlier, they would have slipped away. maybe he should let them slip away.

 

or maybe not.

 

he moves silently closer, but quickly. they are still facing away from him, starting to round the tree, when he readies his knife, aiming it, and throwing it. he can practically hear it whistle through the air, the beautiful sound, and it sticks itself loudly into the tree next to the intruder’s head, drawing a loud gasp. her head whips around to look back at him, and even though he can’t make out her face in the dark, he doesn’t miss the mess of curls sticking out from under the hood. neither of them move, her body frozen in place while jerome tilts his head at her with a smile.

 

“you were _almost_ sneaky enough, kitten, but you got some work to do,” jerome jokes loudly. she takes on a defensive stance as jerome takes a few steps closer. he pauses when he’s about four feet away from where she stands, feeling the adrenaline course through him. he decides to ignore it. “if i catch you again, i won’t miss.” the girl turns and sprints off into the dark without a word, and he lets her go. jerome smirks, and hopes that missing was the right move in the first place. maybe he should have hit her leg or something. she really wouldn’t have come back then. if she was brave enough, though, she could call the cops, but she was the one trespassing. he pulls his knife out of the tree, shivering in the cold air as he heads back to the house, slipping the knife back into his pocket before appearing into the camera’s view. he shrugs at the camera, acting as if nothing happened, and unlocks the door, the alarms sounding again as he lets himself in and locks it behind him. jerome makes his way back to jeremiah, but his twin meets him halfway. he shrugs with his hands up.

 

“no one is out there anymore,” he says calmly, watching jeremiah’s eyes close in relief. “you got nothing to worry about.” and then his twin is hugging him somewhat desperately, and it throws him off, even scares him a little, and he almost laughs it off, but he can feel jeremiah’s body shaking, and it hits him again how serious this stuff is for his twin. he swallows and hugs him back, arms wrapping around his body to try and calm him down. jeremiah’s arms tighten and he buries his face into his shoulder, taking a deep breath. “you’ve got nothing to worry about.” jerome repeats himself, wanting jeremiah to believe it. he should believe it. his twin pulls back quickly, hands retracting like he was caught touching something he shouldn’t be, and it reminds jerome of everything all over again. he lets his own hands slip away from him. “how do you feel? any panic still? feeling sick at all? should i stay worried?” jeremiah isn’t looking at him now, and is blinking rapidly.

 

“i’m fine, um,” he twists his fingers, to the point it looks painful. “i think i’ll just-just lay down, or, um, work?” jeremiah shakes his head, still looking distressed. “i can’t remember much from being drunk, and it’s just adding on to the panic, you know?” and jerome definitely understands. “i mean-i don’t even know if my mind just made stuff up or-or if-“ he pauses, as if searching for the right words. jerome’s not sure he wants him to find them.

 

“why don’t you lay down, drink some water, and stop thinking.” jerome suggests firmly. “i’m surprised your brain hasn’t just short-circuited by now. what time is it anyway?”

 

“almost seven o’clock.” jeremiah answers quickly. “jerome, i really think you should tell me if i said anything-“ but he quickly cuts him off.

 

“in a bit, miah, we just fuckin’ woke up,” he walks backwards down the hall a little ways. “let yourself relax and be hungover, or something. stop worrying so much. you didn’t do anything that made the earth stop spinning.” he turns around and heads into the kitchen, flicking on a lamp so it isn’t obnoxiously bright. he goes to the cabinet he knows he just put the bag of mixed candy bars in, already smiling a little in excitement as he’s pulling it out. he rips the bag open messily and digs around for a fun sized kit kat.

 

“that wasn’t on my list.” jeremiah says quietly from the entry way, and jerome looks at him, relieved to see a tiny smile accompanying the words.

 

“yeah, not on _your_ list,” he says with a laugh. “definitely on _mine_ , though.” he sets down the bag and tears open the kit kat, splitting the two pieces apart, and taking a bite of it. “you know what’s funny?” jeremiah tilts his head at him. “kit kats are the twins of the candy bar universe.” his twin squints his eyes at him skeptically. “well, i guess twix bars are, too. they also happen to be my two favorite chocolate bars. although,” jerome starts to correct himself. “fun sized twix bars come alone, where as kit kats always have their other half. so, factually, kit kats are the true twins of candy bars.” jeremiah is looking at him like he’s a complete idiot, and it makes a laugh bubble in his chest. he lets himself cackle, almost missing the change in his twin’s expression. now he’s looking at him differently. it isn’t sad, no, but it’s something close to it. he walks over to him, still laughing a little, and holds out the other half of his kit kat. “here, half for my other half.” jeremiah just looks at it for a few seconds before taking it gently. jerome shoves the rest of his in his mouth, and smiles with his mouth closed as he chews. when his twin looks up at him again, it hits him what the look is at the feeling starts to seep into his own chest. he blinks and feels his smile fall. jeremiah’s own expression falls and becomes closed off, and jerome can see him turning his expression blank. he looks away.

 

“i’m gonna lay down and try not to think about-“ he falters, eyes closing. “about any of it.” jeremiah turns and disappears, and he is getting _exhausted_ by the emotional whiplash between them.

 

jerome knows they aren’t fine, that they both are upset with each other, and plenty of moments have happened where they have actively expressed they are upset. and yet they keep going back to normality, falling back into their comfort zones. they have never had to be truly mad at each other before, and they don’t really know what they are doing. yes, jerome is not happy that jeremiah got shit-faced out of self-deprecation, or that he kissed bruce after going out of his way to expose the kid for what he did while drunk. but how the fuck is he supposed to _stay_ mad at jeremiah? how does he leave his twin alone? the first day of leaving him alone while truly fighting ended with jeremiah making bad decisions. jerome just spent the whole time worrying about him. he’s always worrying about him. he can’t actually read his twin’s mind, despite wishing he could, and he isn’t the best at, well, understanding anyone’s emotions. if it weren’t for the fact he could sense the stronger emotions, he doesn’t think he would understand jeremiah at all. hell, what he just felt from his twin hasn’t helped him actually understand anything better. it just makes him feel more frustration at how unnecessary these stupid feelings are, and how they have messed up their rhythm and their peace.

 

he digs in the candy bag and pulls out a small snickers bar and tears it open roughly. what does jeremiah remember from being drunk? is this how jeremiah and bruce felt? both of them knowing something, but not knowing what he knew? dancing around the topic but hoping for answers anyway? maybe he should say _fuck it_ and be straight forward with jeremiah. maybe he should ask what he remembers. jerome thinks maybe he should confess everything that happened regardless, avoid all possible problems by being open for once. he shoves the whole snickers in his mouth and heads back to his room tensely.

 

jerome opens his phone, ignoring his background as he opens his messages with bruce. they haven’t texted since his drunk one. he starts typing a new one.

 

-cant call. miah is ok, threw up and slept for a bit. think we all need to figure our shit out soon. let me know when ur feeling up for a confrontation with me and him.-

 

he hopes the message doesn’t come across as putting full blame on bruce for what’s happening, but he can’t ignore that he’s a huge part of the problem. the kid wants them both, but jerome and jeremiah are too possessive of each other _and_ of the kid that it’s starting to get confusing. it’s not possible for all three to be happy in the end.

 

he doesn’t _think_ it's possible, anyway.

 

jerome lays down again and starts playing some heavy music quietly, sitting the phone right next to his head. he feels the phone vibrate on the pillow.

 

-thank you. i will give you both some space. let me know if either of you need anything.-

 

a new message pops up below it.

 

-i’m sorry for the trouble i’ve caused. i’ll find a way to fix this.-

 

jerome almost grinds his teeth. he types his response and hits send, sitting it down by his head again.

 

-weve caused. we will fix this.-

 

as they both lay there, the painful feeling still lingers.

 

 _longing_.

 

-

 

it’s saturday morning, three days since shit hit the fan with jeremiah and bruce, and his twin hasn’t said much to him. he says _good morning_ , and the occasional _goodnight_ if they pass each other while he’s on his way to bed. jeremiah has been spending his days in the building room, but jerome isn’t sure how much work he’s gotten done. he didn’t think there was much left to work on. jerome stuck to his word about not pestering him, and giving him space, but he can admit it leaves him antsy. he’s been going out and scoping out places, but doesn’t feel in the mood to do what needs to be done. he doesn’t feel like manipulating through heavy flirting and promises of pleasure. he just wants to take shit and run. he wants to break shit and run. he wants to cause chaos.

 

but he can’t.

 

jerome didn’t sleep last night, and he doesn’t think jeremiah did either. his clock says it’s nine, but he really doesn’t want to get up. he doesn’t want to go through another day like this, in this brisk atmosphere clouded with uncertainty. everything is too dark right now. he can’t even manage to have any fun without it fogging over his mind. bruce hasn’t texted him since jerome said to let him know when he’s ready for a confrontation, so he’s guessing the kid is far from ready. jerome isn’t sure he is ready, either, but he’s certainly ready to get this over with. he still doesn’t know how to fix this. if it were completely up to him, he thinks he knows what would be a _fun_ idea, but sadly, that’s not how this works. he rolls over and grabs his phone off the nightstand, seeing four different texts from random friends he doesn’t really care about. he opens his messages and reads the first one.

 

-gay, just divorced jewler !-

 

jerome snorts. he goes to the second one from someone else.

 

-wanna bang a jewelry store owner, get a third?-

 

he reads the third from the same person.

 

-getting top vibes tho, that ok?-

 

jerome snorts again, giggling a little. they all may not really care about each other, but they sure understand each other. he starts typing a response to jonathan.

 

-send pics ;) -

 

jerome has _some_ standards, after all. he goes back to look at the fourth one, eyebrows furrowing.

 

-do u know a gallavich or somthin? they lookin for u-

 

no, jerome doesn’t know a gallavich, or anything close to the name. he feels like it’s familiar though.

 

-no i dont think so. what do they want?-

 

he sits his phone down, already shrugging it off as he gets out of bed, not bothering with a shirt. he goes to the bathroom and takes a moment to look in the mirror. he could probably shave today, but the thought comes with jeremiah, and it stirs up sadness and something else. he ignores both feelings. the hickey on his collarbone is pretty much gone, thankfully.although the scratches are still somewhat there. _thankfully_ , jerome wants to think. he shouldn’t. he leaves the bathroom with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he walks into the kitchen. jeremiah is at the island drinking coffee. he does a double take.

 

“is that _another_ hoodie of mine?” jeremiah looks up from his phone, genuinely surprised. he blinks at him as jerome gets a mug out for his own cup of coffee. “i’m gonna steal all of your ties. what will you do then?” jeremiah lets put a surprised huff of a laugh. when jerome looks over at him with raised eyebrows, his twin has a happy look of disbelief on his face. it’s a relief.

 

“no, you won’t,” jeremiah says with so much certainty, looking back down at his phone. “you have nothing to wear them with.” jerome lets out a single ‘ha’ at that, getting in the fridge for the new creamer. he pours way too much and puts it back in the fridge before replying.

 

“you just wait and see,” he says ominously, maintaining eye contact with jeremiah as he takes a sip of his coffee before turning and walking out of the kitchen. he smiles to himself victoriously at finally having a normal moment between them. it’s been three days, and jerome thinks that if you want change, you have to try for it. jerome definitely needs things to change. he will try harder. he will prove that he’s sorry, and he will be as understanding of everything as he can be, and he will try to take it a little more seriously. not too seriously, though. gotta find the humor in it somewhere, he thinks. yeah, having one normal conversation doesn’t mean things are fixed, but jerome counts it as a win for now. it’s a good baby step. when he gets back to his room, he has three new texts, one being from jonathan.

 

-weird. just decide when you see him. you in? -

 

jerome purses his lips, sitting his coffee down. should he go out today? should he try something normal?

 

-wont be stealing. ill just be the distraction. as long as i still get a third for my work. sound good? -

 

he goes back to the other two messages from greenwood.

 

-says he has a job for u or somthin. big ears. wears suits. rich lookin. u dont take it, i will. -

 

jerome rolls his eyes. he doesn’t like greenwood. the guy always looks like he hasn’t showered since birth, and he’s seventy-percent sure he’s a cannibal. it sends a slight shiver down even jerome’s spine.

 

-tell the guy ill meet him at the gotham city park -

 

he hits send before typing a second message.

 

-also, fuck off -

 

he sits it down, drinking more of his coffee, thinking maybe he should shower considering the update in today’s plans. he should probably let jeremiah know he’s going out for a bit as well. he scratches at the slight stubble and decides that he won’t shave, because it’s too much work. he drinks the rest of his coffee and stands up, finding a pair of black jeans that he knows suits his ass. if the guy is a top, he’s gotta dress accordingly. he looks in his closet for a shirt, clicking his tongue a few times. an idea pops into his head. jerome pulls out a light blue button up he rarely ever wears and slips it on, buttoning it up as quick as possible. his phone vibrates on his bed, so he jogs back over to see if it’s jonathan confirming the plan.

 

-that works for me. be at jerrys jewelry in an hour. lure him somewhere in the back. weve taken care of security. good luck.-

 

jerome smirks, already feeling the adrenaline start to buzz through his body. he bounces on his heels as he buttons almost all of the shirt, leaving the top three undone. he grabs his phone and quietly leaves his bedroom, quickly sneaking into jeremiah’s. he heads to his twin’s closet and starts to look through his tie collection.

 

there are so many to choose from.

 

as he looks, he tries to keep in mind that this guy might prefer to think he’s the dominant one, so he needs something that might help him look more submissive. he’s already got his act ready (he just copies jeremiah), so he just needs the look. he thinks a navy tie with a subtle gold paisley pattern. it’s actually a pretty ugly tie, in jerome’s opinion, and he can’t recall jeremiah ever wearing it. he puts it around his neck and ties it somewhat badly, keeping it a little loose, and flipping his collar down. he ruffles a hand through his hair, wanting to look disheveled, embarrassed, somewhat agitated. he’ll figure out a dialogue on the way there. he’ll touch unnecessarily, look confused, act concerned at prices, and ask for a _lot_ of help. sounds solid enough, but he can be more precise once he meets the guy and gets a feel for what he’s like and what he would like to do to jerome. he hasn’t felt this excited to manipulate in days. probably a week, actually. he’s been so focused on bruce wayne and getting the kid’s attention that he hasn’t wanted anyone else. granted he doesn’t really want most of these people. he rarely has sex with them, just usually lets them suck his dick. occasionally he will suck someone else’s dick, which is probably the case for today. he thinks he is okay with that. he heads back into the bathroom, satisfied with what he sees in the mirror, and brushes his teeth quickly, rinsing with water. he smiles toothily at the mirror.

 

jerome practically skips back into the kitchen, happy to see jeremiah is still in there, and gives him a falsely innocent smile. “heading out for a bit today!” he says happily. “i’ll call when i’m on my way home, like usual.” he stops by the fridge, and pulls out a can of redbull for himself to chug on the way there.

 

“you know, that wasn’t on my list either,” jeremiah says quietly, something echoing the last night they had a conversation. his smile falls at the feeling starting to seep in again, but he stands up and closes the fridge with a smile. “are you serious?” jeremiah says before letting out a giggle, and it pulls at jerome’s heart, makes him want to tackle his twin, something that happened often when they were young. he’d tackle and pin him down, miah squirming and giggling as jerome tickled him ruthlessly. jerome takes a deep, shaking breath, the feeling rattling under his ribs. jeremiah swallows hard, but doesn’t let his little smile fall. “you stole a tie. the worst tie, at that.” jerome opens his redbull and takes a huge sip.

 

“trust me, i could’ve stolen worse ties,” he says judgmentally, smirking as jeremiah’s mouth falls open, offended.

 

“ _you’re_ the one who buys the ties for me!” jeremiah defends himself, pinning the blame on jerome instead. he supposes that’s fair. he just hums and starts to walk towards the living room.

 

“i’ll be back later,” he calls over his shoulder. “get some work done.” he doesn’t get a reply, so he unlocks the door and heads out quickly. when he gets his car started, he starts to truly get excited. time to do what he’s best at. he couldn’t be happier.

 

-

 

jerome could, in fact, be happier.

 

apparently, this guy didn’t last as long as jonathan and the others had planned for, and jerome tries not to let it go to his already-too-big ego, and focuses on the fact that he’s sprinting to his car as the alarms sound from the building. the guy caught them before they could finish taking what they wanted, and jerome looked at the guy in a nervous panic (though he was calm as ever), and asked over the sound of the screeching alarms, “can i at least get your number?” the guy stared at him, clearly distressed and confused, not realizing he was a part of it, so jerome just shrugged and waved, walking out slowly, trying to be nonchalant. he saw jonathan and the three others sprinting in the opposite direction he parked in, but the police were already turning onto their street and could clearly see them running away, so jerome started running to his car, keeping himself hidden, hoping to get off and away from the scene, _right now_.

 

he gets in, slamming the door closed and slouching down, the police cars zooming by and following the four who are running. _what a bunch of idiots_ , he thinks. why wouldn’t they hide? why didn’t they at least split up? jerome realizes with bitter disappointment that if they get caught, he gave that forty year old guy a blowjob for no fucking reason. he grimaces as he sits up and starts the car, backing out carefully and driving away, his mood souring. the guy was at least somewhat attractive, but definitely not his taste. he was stuck up and obviously rich, so he was at least a clean feeling guy, but he was too whiny, and wanted to pet jerome and coddle him. he must have had a bad divorce and was very lonely if he latched onto jerome so quickly.

 

he turns a corner and sees a familiar car parked at the pizza shop he frequently goes to for him and jeremiah. he ponders stopping when his phone starts buzzing. he pulls it out of his back pocket as he continues driving past.

 

what a coincidence.

 

“hey, brucie,” he greets charmingly. “was just thinking about you.”

 

“where are you?” bruce says coldly. jerome’s eyebrows twitch.

 

“driving home, probably, why?” he says nonchalantly. bruce is silent for a few seconds.

 

“a bunch of cops just drove by, and the jewelry store alarms were screeching quite loudly,” and jerome is almost impressed by how quick he was to call. “so i ask again; where are you?” at this point, jerome has circled back around the block and pulls in to park next to bruce’s car.

 

“funny you should ask again,” he turns off the car and unbuckles his seat belt. “i’m sitting next to your car.” he doesn’t get out, in case bruce doesn’t actually want to see him for some reason (jerome knows why he wouldn’t), and waits for bruce’s response.

 

“i’ll be out in a minute.” his phone beeps signalling him bruce hung up, and he tries not to feel nervous excitement that bruce is coming to him. he looks up to see bruce walking through the door, but feels his gut twist when he notices a girl following behind, obviously upset. bruce looks like he’s trying to explain himself, and jerome doesn’t feel the least bit guilty for taking bruce away. he studies the girl, taking in her tight black clothes, gathering she is probably bruce’s age, if not older. she’s very pretty, jerome admits, even while throwing what looks like a hissy fit, her mouth twisting down with every word, her green eyes ablaze. something feels familiar about her. he takes in her posture, the way she’s holding herself like she’s ready to run, and it feels achingly familiar now, and then he realizes that she has a mess of curls atop her head, and if she were wearing a hood -

 

jerome feels his blood boil as he tilts his head. he opens his car door, catching bruce’s attention, he starts to walk towards him, looking calm. “jerome, this is selina-“ but jerome is quick to laugh, because of course _this_ is selina.

 

“selina, huh?” he drawls out, almost identical to his response the first time bruce mentioned her on that damned couch, which feels like a lifetime ago, but in reality was only a week. except this time it’s tinged with anger. “you know, you are _brave_ , i’ll give ya that!” he says, as if he’s joking, but he feels like he’s going to snap any minute. selina’s eyes are stuck on his, realization and fear clouding them, her body twisting away like she’s gonna run again. is running all she knows how to do? he keeps his eyes on her.

 

“jerome, what’s wrong?” bruce asks firmly, voice strong despite his confusion. jerome smiles as selina’s eyes flick over to bruce. he takes a few steps forward, watching as she takes one step back, bruce moving closer to stand more in between them, but not quite.

 

“yeah, kitten, what’s wrong?” he says mockingly. “afraid of confrontation?” he sees a spark of anger in her eyes now, but she still looks more afraid. he smiles wider.

 

“what’s going on?” bruce steps out to stand directly in front of jerome now, like he’s protecting her, which is probably for the best. he finally locks eyes with bruce.

 

“does your girlfriend follow you around on a regular basis?” he asks, feigning curiousity. “you know, for being a smart kid, you must be as observant as a peanut shell.” bruce looks a little hurt, but mostly just confused. he directs his attention behind bruce. “she tried to break in the other night, and thought she could get away,” selina closes her eyes in defeat as bruce turns to look at her. “she’s lucky i let her.”

 

“i wasn’t going to _break in_ -“ she starts to explain, but jerome laughs over her.

 

“not going to break in!” he says in disbelief. “you were on our doorstep and ran at the sound of an alarm being triggered! yet you didn't leave, you lingered and waited. what the hell were you doin’ if you weren’t trying to break in, hm?” he starts to try to step around bruce, but the kid’s hand lands on his chest gently. he wants to break his arm.

 

“selina, what were you doing there?” bruce asks calmly, but suspiciously. she looks at him nervously.

 

“i wanted to see where you’ve been sneaking off to,” she finally admits. “you’re gone so often, but you never say where you’re going, or who you’re meeting up with. i never would have thought it was someone like-“ she pauses, looking at jerome again uneasily. jerome smiles politely with a tilt of his head.

 

“you shouldn’t have followed me there,” bruce says sternly. selina’s eyes light up again.

 

“don’t talk to me as if you wouldn’t have done the same.” she quips back. jerome watches in slight interest at her ferocity.

 

“they could have mistaken you for an intruder-“

 

“‘mistaken?’” jerome says, mixing with-

 

“‘they?’” from selina.

 

both of them look at bruce, jerome incredulously, and selina just confused. bruce freezes, looking at jerome apologetically. jerome looks back at selina.

 

“come back again, and i’ll keep my promise,” he says threateningly, watching her swallow and back up again. jerome pushes bruce’s hand away from his chest. “keep track of your stray, would ya? would _hate_ for her to get hurt.” he finishes sarcastically, turning back to his car angrily.

 

“great friend choice, bruce,” he hears her mutter to him, and he stops, flicking out his knife and turning back, moving quickly to grab at her and shove her against bruce’s expensive car, the blade next to her cheek.

 

“jerome!” bruce yells, hands grabbing at his shoulders. he doesn’t listen. why should he?

 

“stay the hell away from my home, or i swear i'll see if you have nine lives,” she exhales sharply through her nose, and he lets bruce pull him back this time. she shoves herself of the car and walks away, body tense. he watches her go with a glare.

 

“what the hell is wrong with you?” bruce yells at him. jerome looks at him and lets out a bitter laugh.

 

“do you have _any idea_ what that was like for miah? hm?” he moves in closer, intimidating the teen. “hearing an alarm that was _real_ this time, seeing someone at the door that was _real_? that shit gets to him, bruce. not to mention, he had woken up to the sound of an alarm after drinking himself to death because of _you_.” he jabs his finger into bruce’s chest, watching his eyes go cold. “and now you have people following you to our home? the only place miah feels even a _little_ safe? your lucky i convinced him there was no one outside.” he backs up, putting space between them.bruce just shakes his head, his expression going apologetic now, eyes pleading.

 

“please,” he begs softly. it’s a pretty sound. “i didn’t know, jerome. it won’t happen again-“

 

“it _won’t_.” he says, but he feels himself soften a little, because the kid really didn’t have a clue, but he could put them in danger, put _jeremiah_ in danger. “you have got to be more careful, bruce, or something bad will happen. and i can’t promise i won’t start hurting your girlfriend if she keeps showing up.” bruce looks up at him with uncertainty mixed with understanding. “seeing her on that camera, whether it’s real to him or not, will stay on his mind for as long as we live there,” he explains. bruce looks down again, seeming ashamed. “if you can’t make her understand without giving shit away about miah, _i’ll_ have to make her understand. you don’t want that.” he says pleadingly, really not wanting to hurt her knowing what it would do to bruce. he _does_ want to hurt her, because she’s surely caused lasting damage for his twin, but he doesn’t want to lose bruce either. oh, the burden of slightly caring about someone other than jeremiah. it _bothers_ him. bruce must see something on his face, because he feels bruce’s cold fingers gently touch his own before they hold onto his hand. jerome lets him do it, feeling a confusing warmth in his chest, reminding him of when jeremiah reached out to his hand for the first time in years, the warmth spreading under his ribs and making his heart feel too big for his chest.

 

“i’m sorry,” bruce says softly. “how can i fix this?” jerome looks at him, shaking his head.

 

“you can’t fix his paranoia, bruce,” he says, his tone matching bruce’s. the teen looks at him, his face falling even more. “no one can, okay? just be a little aware when you come over. this kind of shit can’t keep happening, or,” jerome pauses. “i don’t know what will happen, honestly.” bruce nods silently, looking away in the direction selina went. jerome feels bitterness as he slips his hand away. “probably shouldn’t be so, uh, close in public. and uh,” bruce looks back at him with a somewhat upset expression. “you should go find your girlfriend. don’t want her to stay mad at you, do ya?” jerome takes a step back, averting his gaze as he sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

 

“she isn’t my girlfriend,” bruce corrects nicely. “and she’s always mad at me.” jerome’s eyebrows twitch. it goes silent for a few seconds. “i’d rather make things right with you and jeremiah.” the words catch his attention, locking eyes with bruce again, feeling a stir at the determination in the kid’s eyes. he mulls over the words, but then his phone starts buzzing repeatedly in his back pocket, putting a pause on their moment. he pulls it out, and instantly answers.

 

“miah?”

 

“hi,” his twin answers calmly. he feels himself relax. “i just wanted to let you know doctor thompkins is coming over any minute. i forgot to warn you, and then you left, and i remembered, but then i wasn’t sure how long you were gonna be gone, and-"

 

“ _miah_ ,” jerome interrupts with a laugh. “okay, i’ll stay out a bit longer. just call me later, alright?” his twin lets out a breath.

 

“yeah, i will,” jerome stays quiet for a few seconds, and so does jeremiah. he looks up at bruce, knowing he has to be careful with his wording choice.

 

“be honest,” he says meaningfully. “don’t you dare lie.” jeremiah doesn’t say anything, so jerome waits with raised eyebrows.

 

“i promise.” he finally responds, voice quiet, but honest. jerome lets his eyes fall closed. “i have to go.” jerome nods uselessly.

 

“alright,” he glances quickly at bruce again. “love ya.” he doesn’t think he should have said it, but he also thinks it’s what his twin needs to hear right now. he needs to feel comfortably vulnerable.

 

“love you.” his twin shakily replies. jerome pulls his phone away from his ear, hesitating, and then hanging up. he puts his phone away, avoiding eye contact with bruce again, not sure what to do now.

 

“i haven’t tried to talk to him,” bruce practically whispers it. “i should have at least checked up to see how the generator was going. it would have been professional, like he wanted.” jerome looks at him, but bruce is looking away, watching people go about their lives.

 

“wanna hang out for a bit?” he asks nonchalantly, as if everything is fine, as if he hadn’t just pulled a knife on his girlfriend, as if he hadn’t almost lost his temper and scolded him for putting jeremiah in danger.

 

“what should we do?” bruce asks just as nonchalantly. _good boy_ , he thinks darkly. he smiles and shrugs, waiting for bruce to look at him again. when the teen does, he smiles bigger. bruce’s eyes glance down, lingering.

 

“i’ve got some ideas,” he vaguely answers, hoping his car door. “get in.” bruce hesitates before walking around to the passenger side. he buckles up and starts the car.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did you guys think? i'm finally gonna get to miah's meeting with lee, so how honest do you think he will be with her, and what sort of things do you think he will talk to her about? what did you think of jerome and selina meeting, and what do you think their relationship will be like in the future? and whEN ARE j anD miah goNNA DISCUSS what HAPPENED????? does miah remember everything or only bits and pieces??????????? will bruce finally talk with j and miah at the same time?????????????? keep reading to find out! leave a comment telling me what you thought of this chapter, i always respond! i'll try not to take as long with the next chapter, and i'll actually be alternating pov's!!! i love you all so, so, SO much. thank you for reading my story. ❤️❤️❤️


	14. the sessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ CHAPTER 13: CANDY UNIVERSE !!! you will be incredibly confused if you missed it!! it took me forever to update, and sometimes people don't remember how many chapters there were when they come back and skip some! (i've done it before whoops)  
> yall i'm BACK again!!! with a good 15,000+ word chapter! there are switching pov's in this, which made writing it so much fun and it was so easy to get it done. i feel like quite a bit happens in this chapter??? but i did have to cut it off. it was getting really long and i saw the perfect cliffhanger opportunity. (-;  
> TRIGGER WARNING. they do discuss abuse in this chapter, but not much detail. just a heads up!  
> also: i've decided to add song lyrics to the beginning and end of the chapters. the lyrics are what fit the mood of the chapter, but sometimes the song itself doesn't feel right. so, i'm including lines that stood out to me that really add to the feel i want for each chapter.  
> please enjoy everyone!!!

* * *

_hurt me,_

_break my heart._

_spinning,_

_twist myself._

 

\---

 

jerome buckles up and starts the car, and he can’t help staring at bruce’s car next to his, shaking his head. he backs out and starts to drive away, heading back towards his own house, but not actually planning it as their destination. he decides to start talking.

 

“why _are_ you friends with me?” he asks out of curiosity. “i mean, your girlfriend made a good point. i’m not the best friend choice. jeremiah also doesn’t really understand it, and frankly, i don’t either.” he keeps his eyes on the road, waiting patiently for a response. “well, i’m a pretty cool guy, and i know you probably just can’t help yourself, but i’d like to hear it from you.” bruce scoffs, and jerome smirks. he wants to keep the air light after what happened a few minutes ago. although, bruce is a little too good at brooding.

 

“she isn’t my girlfriend, and i know you know that,” bruce’s voice is irritated, and he can’t stop his smirk turning into a devious smile at managing to push the kid’s buttons. “i told you things weren’t working out between us.”

 

“to be fair, you _did_ sleep with some guy while drunk, and i think that _may_ be cheating.” jerome can’t help but tease, raising his eyebrows as bruce sighs heavily.

 

“we aren’t together, jerome,” and oh, he loves the deep tone of his voice as he repeatedly defends himself. jerome just keeps smiling. “and how can you already joke about what happened?” it isn’t asked angrily, it’s asked more incredulously. “you don’t even remember.” jerome nods.

 

“yeah, i don’t remember anything, sadly,” he can feel bruce’s eyes burning holes in the side of his head. “that’s pretty much why i can joke about it. if i remembered, well,” he shrugs slightly. “it would be a different story.” jerome concludes vaguely.

 

“how so?” bruce asks, voice low, curious. he keeps his eyes trained on the road, watching pleased as the trees start to take over the sides of the road.

 

“why don’t you tell me what you remember, brucie,” he deflects. “i wanna know more of what happened that night. that’s fair, right?” after a few seconds of silence, jerome glances over at the teen, licking his lips at the deep flush on his face as bruce averts his gaze to look out the windshield instead. “why don’t you start with what you remember after going out on that dancefloor.” bruce takes a deep breath.

 

-

 

jeremiah sighs out heavily, hearing the buzz of his rarely used doorbell. he pulls up the camera feed to see doctor thompkins standing outside, waiting patiently. he types in the passwords to unlock the door, and she enters smoothly, closing the door quickly so he can type in the password to lock it again. he sighs out heavily again. his hands shake as he closes the laptop and stands up, exiting the office briskly. jeremiah is dreading this meeting. he’s sure doctor thompkins is worried. he enters the living room and looks up at her somewhat blankly. he doesn’t mean to. she smiles warmly.

 

“jeremiah,” she greets politely. “i hope this isn’t too early of a meeting. it was my free morning, and i figured this worked best for me.” he tries not to feel guilty for taking up her free time. he shakes his head quickly.

 

“no, this, uh, works fine,” he looks away from her and in the direction of the dining room. he’s not sure why he still calls it the dining room. it’s only used for his therapy sessions. “shall we?”

 

“of course.” he can hear the smile in her voice, and he tries not to be uneasy at her kindness. he leads the way into the dining room, smoothing down his plum sweater vest and straightening his matching tie as he goes. he pulls out his usual chair and sits as doctor thompkins unbuttons and slides off her black pea-coat, revealing an emerald green dress, the v-neck not actually revealing anything despite how deep it cuts, and the sleeves stopping just short of her wrists. something shiny catches his attention. he tilts his head at her as she sits down.

 

“should i be expecting a name change soon?” he can’t help the small smile as he asks it, watching her face light up with a bright smile.

 

“oh, yes,” she flexes out the fingers on her left hand, the beautiful engagement ring complimenting her perfectly. “not too soon, but eventually.” he can tell she’s definitely happy about the engagement, and he can’t help but feel a bubble of his own happiness at seeing her act so normal. she’s always so professional and politely kind.

 

“congratulations, then, doctor thompkins.” he makes eye contact as he says it, and she tilts her head.

 

“you know, why don’t you try to start calling me lee,” she says. “it would be preferred until my last name changes.” jeremiah opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it and nods silently. she smiles again. “well, you asked for an immediate meeting,” and now he’s looking back down at his hands tangled together in his lap. “why don’t you tell me what prompted that message?” he hears her notepad open up and her pen click. he doesn’t say anything for probably an entire minute. she waits.

 

“i would like to switch medications.” jeremiah finally says. he doesn’t look up. his fingers twist tighter.

 

“why is that?” she asks calmly.

 

“i dislike how the one’s i’m on make me feel.” he states simply and vaguely.

 

“i have to ask what you are experiencing,” he can hear her pen scratching. “and please be as detailed as you can for me.” he shakes his head in distaste. “i know you don’t want to, but try your best.” and he almost appreciates how much she understood just from the small movement. he tries to gather up all of his thoughts on how it used to make him feel.

 

“they would make me feel like i was already dead,” he admits. “or like a machine, just going through it’s programmed motions. i didn’t like the way they made me feel because i couldn’t feel at all.” he goes quiet as she continues to write his words.

 

“you’re speaking in past-tense,” she points out, and jeremiah feels himself stiffen at the stupid mistake. “i take it you decided to go off medication without consulting me first?” she says it with a calm tone, but he’s certain that if he looked up at her, her face would show something else. he doesn’t respond. “you know how dangerous that could have been for you? you are out here completely alone and no one would even _think_ to check up on you, except for me.” jeremiah swallows hard. _you’re_ _wrong_. “but i wouldn’t have checked up on you because i wasn’t aware of what you were doing. if you had talked to me first, i would have gladly helped you gradually go off your medication to start a new one, safely.” he blinks rapidly at being scolded, his past emotions being brought to the surface, and he’s reminded of why he didn’t want to talk to her, why he wanted to keep it a secret, why he is so afraid of her. she’s the only woman in his life, and he can’t stop himself from comparing her to a mother, what a mother should be like, and he _wants_ her to feel like one, _desperately_ , but that’s ridiculous, dangerous, and her cold tone and disappointment puts him back in his place. this was the kind of mother he had. he will never get a second chance.

 

though he supposes it would be the third, wouldn’t it?

 

“jeremiah,” her soft voice gently pulls him slightly away from his thoughts, his eyes reopening. “i need you to take a deep breath.” and he is suddenly aware of his harsh breathing, of how quick it is, and his fingers have turned white from how hard he’s squeezing them together. he shakily takes in a deep breath, straightening his posture a little to get in more air, letting his eyes close again, realizing they are a little damp. he wants her to keep talking to him. he doesn’t know how to ask. he isn’t comfortable with it. “i didn’t mean to-to strike a nerve. although i’m not sure what exactly it was.” jeremiah doesn’t respond, doesn’t think he could get words out if he wanted to. he doesn’t want to. “i’ve never seen you like this. is it because you aren’t on any medication?” jeremiah doesn’t understand what she means. “you said before that you couldn’t feel while on it. i’ve only ever seen you anxious, a little on edge by my presence in your space. i’ve never seen this much emotion from you before.” ah, that makes sense to him. he always feels emotional lately, but he never realized how closed off he has always been with doctor thompkins. lee. “what was it that i said that set you off, jeremiah?” he wants to believe she’s asking because she cares, because she doesn’t want to set him off again, but he knows she’s mostly asking to get inside his brain for once. he doesn’t say anything because he’s already feeling himself close off. he can feel regret and shame, but he doesn’t dare show it. jeremiah opens his eyes, blinks away the tears, and takes a deep breath.

 

“i think i am just not used to interacting while completely off medication.” he lies, straightening up and putting on a mask of indifference. he looks up slightly but doesn’t actually look at doctor thompkins. lee. he can hear her faintly sigh, and then she’s getting up from her chair quietly, and now she’s moving around the table, so he looks to his right, panicked to see her kneeling down next to him. he blinks.

 

“i’m your therapist.” she states. “my job is to listen to you talk about your past, your current issues, and your fears of the future. i want to be able to do my job. i want to know what i need to do to properly help you.” her voice isn’t scolding this time, it’s quiet, gentle, but still strong. she’s passionate about her job, something jeremiah can understand. “you wanted my help for a reason. so let me help.” his posture has fallen again without him realizing, his shoulders hunched forward as she cracks at his walls.

 

-

 

“i didn’t feel threatened by you,” bruce says, not answering jerome’s last question, instead answering why he’s friends with him. “like, obviously i did at first, and that’s why i elbowed you in the face,” jerome laughs quietly. “but then you started laughing, and you didn’t try to hide the fact you were going to steal my wallet, you just kind of,” the kid pauses. “existed as you were? i don’t know, jerome.” he finishes, clearly not sure himself how to explain why he’s friends with him. “you know who you are, and you’re comfortable with who you are. i envy it, i guess. i wanted to know more about who you were. so i talked to you, and i gave you my number so we could keep talking.” jerome nods, accepting that explanation. he quite likes it, actually. “i wish i would have known you were going to text every five minutes, because then i probably would not have given you my number.” bruce jokes, making jerome laugh for real.

 

“what can i say, i got attached really quick!” jerome half jokes. he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, mulling over what to say next. “i just really want to push every button you got,” he admits. “i wanna keep pushing and see how far you’ll go until you break.” bruce doesn’t respond as jerome turns right off of the highway onto a gravel road. he watches the dust get kicked up in his rear-view mirror. “it doesn’t take much to get you brooding and annoyed, obviously, as i just did it in, like, two minutes.” he can practically feel bruce’s eye-roll.

 

“why are you friends with _me_? besides that, i mean,” and bruce almost sounds insecure, which doesn’t make any sense.

 

“it started because you were bold enough to elbow me in the nose, and _then_ hang around, _and then_ give me your number. can’t really find anyone better than _that_.” jerome half jokes again. he glances over to see bruce is studying him. jerome looks away. “what, you expecting me to get all emotional now?” he starts drumming his fingers again.

 

“what better chance do we have to talk about things than right now?” bruce practically whines, and it makes jerome antsy, because he doesn’t want to _right_ _now_. “we have to eventually, and you _told_ me we would eventually. i think we should, right now.” jerome just shakes his head with a tight smile.

 

“can’t wait just a little longer and do it with jeremiah there?” jerome asks, driving deeper and deeper into the trees. “get it all over with at once?” bruce sighs.

 

“is it really that hard for you to talk about your actual feelings?” bruce asks annoyed. jerome drums harder. “look, jerome, i genuinely like you-“ he pulls off to the side of the road where he knows the old parking lot is to look out at the river, putting the car in park roughly.

 

“no, no, stop it,” jerome interrupts loudly. “stop. this isn’t happening right now, ‘kay? it’s not.” bruce laughs, and it gives him a slight chill.

 

“why not? why can’t you use your words?” jerome huffs, but doesn’t answer. “can you at least show me your serious about this? about _me_?” jerome turns off the car and looks at bruce, shaking his head slightly.

 

“what the fuck do you want me to say, bruce?” he asks quietly. “what do you want to hear? is there something you’re wanting me to say that i haven’t? tell me, and i’ll say it.” bruce just looks away and out the window at the river.

 

“that isn’t what i want, jerome.” he mumbles. jerome stays silent, just studying bruce now, watching the profile of his eyes flick around, taking in his surroundings. “why are we here?” he asks curiously.

 

“i’m gonna kill ya.” he says seriously, keeping his expression blank as bruce turns to look at him, blinking, before amusement fills the teen’s eyes. jerome smiles at him, making bruce laugh a little, shaking his head and looking away again. “come on, i’m _serious_ now. it would solve every problem i’m having, and i’d be free from stress.” he jokes, but bruce just looks at him unimpressed.

 

“you would have to deal with the stress of being caught committing a murder.” bruce says, still smiling at him. jerome smirks, eyes twinkling.

 

“never been caught before.” he says ominously, and not completely untruly, as he opens up the center console. “well, i was planning on doing this anyway, but,” he says, changing the subject smoothly. “you asked me to talk about my feelings, and this is the only way it’s happening.” he pulls out an orange pill bottle with no label and starts to open it, catching bruce’s skeptical look. “oh, it’s not what you think,” bruce nods his head, looking a little relieved. “it’s the good kind of drug.” bruce scrunches up his eyebrows.

 

“the good kind? there isn’t a _good kind_.” bruce says firmly. “you shouldn’t be taking anything.” jerome just smiles widely.

 

“i told you it’s not what you think,” jerome says, digging around and pulling out a pair of tweezers and a small tray. “not gonna be takin’ anything, brucie.” he pops off the cap, the smell starting to seep out, and he watches amused as bruce’s face turns from stern to disbelief. “gonna be smokin’ it.” he plucks out a small clump of the weed and sets it on the tray in his lap, before pulling out the pipe he loves. it’s glass, but the coloring is in a wood pattern, with different shades of greens. he looks up at bruce with raised eyebrows, but the teen just squints his eyes judgmentally. jerome rolls his eyes. “ _you_ don’t have to, but i do. you’ll probably get a little high, anyway.” jerome carefully starts plucking apart the clump into smaller pieces, and puts them into the round, bowl-like end of the pipe. “you know, miah doesn’t like smoking, either.” jerome says conversationally. “i mean, he likes getting high on the rare occasions it happens, but he doesn’t like _smoking_ it.” bruce hums in surprise.

 

“i wouldn’t have guessed,” _there’s_ _a_ _lot_ _you_ _wouldn’t_ _guess_ _about_ _him_. “what does he do then? eat it?” jerome laughs a little, and realizes he doesn’t have his lighter out. he motions silently for bruce to open the glove department in front of him. the teen sees the lighter and pulls it out, handing it over silently.

 

“i guess that’s one way to go about it,” he flicks the lighter a few times, but it doesn’t light. “i should spike his food sometime. it’d be hilarious.” he finally gets it to light, and raises the pipe to his lips, his finger over the hole on the end. he rests the small flame on the weed in the bowl and breathes in deeply as it turns black, feeling the smoke burn it’s way into his lungs, letting go of the hole and moving his mouth away. he holds it for a few seconds before breathing out, the smoke thick, his eyes closing in relief. _should have brought water_ , he thinks disappointedly. _and that bag of candy_.

 

“you never answered the question,” bruce asks tightly, probably not used to the smell yet. jerome smiles. _never_ _answered_ _mine_ _either_ , _bruce_.

 

“ah, yes,” he opens his eyes and looks at the teen, who’s eyes look genuinely curious. “ever heard of shotgunning?” bruce furrows his eyebrows.

 

“i’ve heard the term, but i’m not sure of the specifics of it.” he admits, not at all embarrassed, just interested in learning. jerome is happy to teach.

 

“basically, you just blow the smoke into the other person’s mouth,” he explains simply. “it just kinda waters it down, i guess is the easiest way to put it. i’m guessing you’ve never smoked anything before?” bruce shakes his head. “well the first few times, it doesn’t feel great. it kind of, uh, burns, like the ash is in your throat, and you will absolutely cough.” jerome lets out a laugh. “i remember the very first time, when we were fifteen, i got this pipe and some weed. miah was there when i lit it, and i inhaled so fucking hard that i almost threw up afterwards.” bruce cringes and lets out a noise of disgust. “was _not_ great. i think it spooked miah, cause he rarely ever takes a hit himself.” he raises the pipe again, shaking his head at the memory, when a thought occurs to him, making him pause. he shakes his head again, continuing what he was doing.

 

“what is it?” bruce asks, catching his pause. jerome lets out a breathy laugh, lowering the pipe a little.

 

“nothin’. i was just gonna mention how, uh, _sexual_ shotgunning is, but figured that would be a bit awkward to say to you.” he finishes off, already feeling a little weird saying it out-loud. he lifts the pipe to his lips and lights it again, inhaling deeply.

 

“why awkward?” bruce mumbles, and when jerome looks at him, the teen’s eyes are trained on his mouth as he lets out the smoke.

 

“uh, because i just told you i shotgun with my twin,” jerome says in a tone of voice that screams _duh_. “and then casually threw out there that it’s bit fuckin’ sexual.” he leans forward and sits the half-used pipe on the dash, leaning back into his seat, hoping to feel it hit soon.

 

“oh,” bruce says dumbly. “i didn’t even think about it.” jerome looks over at him with raised eyebrows, taking in his somewhat stiff posture, and his hands clasped together in his lap.

 

“you’re thinking about it now, aren’t ya?” jerome says lowly, voice going rough. he waits for a reaction from bruce, but the teen just stares down at his lap for a few seconds, cheeks turning red. when the kid looks up, he does it slowly, eyes roving over jerome, never meeting his eyes.

 

“you’re dressed like him.” he points out, voice shaking a little as he fidgets in his seat. jerome looks down at his attire with a frown, completely forgetting what he was wearing. “why?” jerome shakes his head at him.

 

“no, no, no, wait, you are asking a _lot_ of questions, but you have only answered one of mine.” he points a finger at him accusingly. bruce rolls his eyes, looking out the windshield to avoid contact with jerome. “better start talking, too, buddy. i’m not the only one who’s gonna be an open fucking book.”

 

-

 

jeremiah takes in a shuddering breath, trying to think of something to say in response, but it’s like suddenly he’s lost all capability to form sentences. doctor thompkins must understand. “i’ll ask yes or no questions, and you just nod or shake your head. sound good?” jeremiah nods. she stands up but doesn’t move around to her side, instead moving around to his left to the empty chair next to him. he doesn’t tell her he doesn’t want her so close, doesn’t want her to be able to see any emotions he fails to hide. she doesn’t reach for her pen and notepad. “was my tone of voice triggering?” and jeremiah tries not to flinch at how she just jumps right into the hard questions that he isn’t ready to answer. he hesitates for a long time before giving in and nodding. she nods, too.

 

“you mentioned one meeting that you had been taken into a new family here in gotham,” and now jeremiah is _definitely_ tensed up and afraid. “were they verbally abusive?” he closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on how soft her voice is despite the difficult words. he nods. “was that family also physically abusive?” he shakes his head. _not_ _that_ _one_. “okay. i’m going to list off some things. tell me what kind of things they were verbally abusive about. is that alright?” he blinks rapidly, his stomach twisting into knots. “you can say no.” he nods anyway. he wants this off of his chest. “school work?” _no_. “friend choices?” he hesitates. jerome can’t count with her. _no_. “you hesitated.” he shakes his head again. “your illness?” he hesitates again. he shrugs. “were you uncomfortable leaving the house while living with them?” he nods. “was it to this extent?” he shakes his head. “did they dislike that you preferred not to leave the house?” he nods. they hated it. doctor thompkins is quiet for a few moments. _lee_.

 

“i don’t know anything about your birth family,” jeremiah’s body visibly tenses at the mention. “and i’m not going to ask. i will wait until the day comes you’re ready to talk to me about it.” _it_ _will_ _never_ _come_. “but was your adoptive family aware of your past with them, whatever it may be?” he nods, swallowing hard, not really wanting to do this anymore. “were they abusive about that topic?” he blinks hard, not sure ‘abusive about that topic’ is what he would call it. “or rather, would they bring it up often in a cruel way?” it’s almost terrifying how well she’s reading him right now, and it makes him wonder how well she actually has been these past few months. he finally nods again. she reaches across the table and slides her notepad and pen over, and begins writing things down. he can’t see what it is, but he already feels humiliated and exposed. he nervously intertwines his fingers tighter.

 

“i can tell that you hate this,” she starts off gently. “your posture tells me you’re uncomfortable with what you’re sharing, and with being so exposed. it’s also why you haven’t looked at me at all since you told me something you knew i would get onto you for doing. those past experiences are creeping their way into your mind, but jeremiah, it’s the past.” it’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels like he can’t breathe, and when he tries, it’s loud and gasping, and everything seems to hit him at once all over again. “those people aren’t here to hurt you anymore, and they won’t be able to unless you let them.” _but_ _one_ _of_ _them_ _can_. “you’re safe right here, even with me. i want you to know that, jeremiah. you are safe with me.” he feels her fingers brush against his shoulder, but he doesn’t move away or move closer. “anything and everything you tell me is confidential, unless i fear you are a danger to yourself. but i don’t think you are, not really.” _i_ _think_ _i_ _am_. “and if you become afraid of yourself, that’s what i’m here for. lay out your fears to me, all of your stress and your problems. you can trust me.” jeremiah wants to trust her, wants to tell her absolutely everything, but he _can’t_ , and it’s making this hurt more than it should. he wants to talk about jerome, how he feels, the things he does that annoy him, the things he does that confuses him, the things that they have done together that he desperately wants to share with someone, but can’t. he wants to talk about what’s happening right now, with jerome and bruce, and he thinks maybe he can try to talk about just him and bruce without jerome, but he’s scared he will slip up-

 

“what are you thinking?” her soft voice cuts through his thoughts, and before he can think about it-

 

“i think i’m in love.” he blurts it out, not even bothering to regret saying it, because what’s the point? her hand isn’t at his shoulder anymore, and he isn’t sure how he feels about that.

 

“what makes you think that?” lee asks. he can hear her sitting down her pen and notepad. he feels like everything has drained from his body except for this deep swirling ache of something he can’t identify.

 

“i don’t know,” he whispers, feeling desperate. “i don’t know. i-i need your help. your help figuring it out. because i don’t-“ he swallows, shaking his head. “i don’t even know if this is what love is supposed to feel like.” it’s silent for a few seconds before she sighs deeply.

 

“being in love feels like a lot of things, jeremiah,” lee says, sounding exhausted already. “it can be joy, it can be pain. frustration, exhilaration, thrilling, tiring. it can be everything all at once. you can’t really define it as one feeling. it’s all of them, and still caring for that person as much as you care for yourself, and loving them despite their flaws and the little things they do that annoy you. it’s seeing those things, and accepting them, and continuing to love them.” he lets her words soak in, mulling over them, relating them to bruce. it’s not _bruce_ they relate to. he ignores it. _this is about bruce._

 

“i don’t think i’m in love, not yet,” he corrects himself. “but i think i’m beginning to love them.” they both stay silent, when something else brews in his mind. he tries to think of a way to say it without being horribly obvious. “do you have any siblings, doctor thom-um, i’m sorry. lee?” the name feels strange. he hopes he can get used to it.

 

“yes, i do.” she says with a bit of pride in her voice. “why do you ask?” jeremiah takes a deep breath, preparing for some delicate phrasing.

 

“the love you feel for your siblings, it’s different than what you feel for your fiance?” he phrases it like a question without really meaning to. she hums affirmatively, and a bit confusedly. “how do you tell the difference?” he asks shakily. “how do you know what’s familial love and what’s romantic love? how do i know if my feelings are beyond platonic?”

 

“i see,” she says in understanding. “you’re unsure if you feel strongly for this person because they are like a family member, or if you want something more.” jeremiah nods, feeling his hands start to get clammy. he unclasps them and wipes them on his pants. “well, i’ll have to ask some questions again that might feel invasive, but like i said, everything is confidential, and i’m not here to judge you for your thoughts.” and _shit_ , jeremiah thinks maybe this was a bad idea.

 

-

 

going along with jerome was probably a bad idea.

 

“how about we take turns askin’ questions,” jerome drawls out, resting his elbow on the center console, chin perched in the palm of his hand, bringing his face closer. “i’ll start.” he smiles devilishly, and bruce feels his stomach twist. “what happened when we got out on that dance floor?” bruce averts his eyes, dreading having to answer the questions he’s bound to ask.

 

“what do you remember?” bruce asks to stall it a little longer. jerome looks up at the ceiling and hums.

 

“i remember being pulled to the dance floor, and a cute redhead waving at me, which is who i thought i fucked that night, but, uh,” he _tsks_ , and bruce flushes at the crude terms. “we both know that’s not true.”

 

“we didn’t-“ the words hault, not comfortable letting them come out of his mouth. “look, on the dance floor, we just danced, and then you,” he pauses and shrugs a little. “you kissed me.” he looks up in time to see jerome’s expression lose it’s humor, instead being replaced by mild surprise, his eyes going a little wide and eyebrows raising. but bruce blinks, and jerome is throwing his head back in laughter, the sound making him feel like he should be embarrassed. when jerome stops laughing, he shakes his head at bruce with a wide smile. “i see you found that funny.” bruce says blandly, blinking as jerome starts giggling again. the redhead nods, eyes twinkling.

 

“i don’t know if i believe that _i_ initiated it, that’s all.” bruce looks at him in offense. “i’m just sayin’! i’m not the kissing type. it’s _boring_. anyone can do it with anyone. nothing exciting about it. no meaning to it.” jerome trails off, sounding bored and disappointed. bruce furrows his eyebrows, somewhat saddened to hear that.

 

“you’ve never kissed someone and felt good? or like it was someone you would want to kiss again?” he asks curiously.

 

“is that your first question?” bruce opens his mouth, because _no_ , he doesn’t want _that_ to be his first question, but jerome doesn’t seem to care. “great! well, to be honest, not really.” jerome leans his back against the window, arms crossing over his chest, straining the sleeves of his button up. bruce feels his mouth twitch. “i’ve never cared about anyone enough. i still don’t. when i kiss someone, i’m just manipulating them to get them in the mood for sex.” bruce’s face turns to one of slight shock, but he quickly tries to cover it. “people are too easy nowadays. besides, what is so special about kissing? you’re just putting your mouth on someone else’s mouth. it’s not something special. kissing doesn’t _mean_ anything.” bruce waits for jerome to be done with his rambling rant before speaking up.

 

“it isn’t if it’s with the right person.” jerome tilts his head at him, and bruce tries not to squirm under his glassy gaze. “if you actually care about someone enough, it feels special. intimate, i guess.” bruce shrugs and looks away again, out at the river. jerome doesn’t say anything for almost a minute.

 

“i really only care about miah, ya know?” he finally says softly, seriously. bruce looks at him, feeling nervous to finally have gotten somewhere with the redhead. “no one else matters. but you know what’s frustrating, bruce?” jerome asks, eyes giving away that he’s actually feeling an emotion despite his bored expression. bruce waits. “i’m actually starting to care for _you_ , too.” his heart feels like it’s in his throat, and he doesn’t know what to say, but jerome is already talking again. “next question. what happened after we kissed on the dance floor?” bruce lowers his gaze to his hands in his lap again, not wanting to actually say out-loud what they did. “did we go back to your place?” bruce nods silently.

 

“we took a cab back,” he explains quietly. “and then we crawled up the stairs because we were too drunk to walk up them,” bruce smiles at the faint memory. “it was hilarious, actually.” he glances at the redhead, seeing a soft smile gracing his features. “why are you dressed like jeremiah?” the soft smile doesn’t go away, and bruce thinks his eyes have gone softer, too. he wonders if he’s starting to get high.

 

“miah stole another one of my hoodies, so i told him i was gonna steal all of his ties. he didn’t believe me, because i ‘had nothing to wear it with’, but i think this works out okay.” jerome explains quickly, waving one hand around while the other fiddles with the tie. “next question. did we make it to your bed?” bruce is flushing all over again. “i bet you have a ridiculous bed, being rich and all.”

 

“yes,” he answers simply, deciding not to elaborate any more than that since jerome technically didn’t ask for any more information. he tries to quickly think of something else to ask. “you said shotgunning feels sexual. how come you do it with jeremiah if you feel awkward about it?” he asks out of pure curiosity.

 

“i never said i feel awkward about _doing_ it,” jerome says slyly. “i felt awkward bringing it up to you.” bruce feels his stomach flip a little.

 

“why?” he asks despite it not being his turn yet. jerome shrugs.

 

“it’s a personal thing for me. i get to ask two questions now.” and _damn_ _it_ , bruce thinks. _i_ _can_ _barely_ _answer_ _**one**_ _question_ _at_ _a_ _time_. “what did we do together? and, please,” jerome adds on quickly. “do give me details this time.” the redhead leans forward and perches his chin in his hand again, bringing himself too close to bruce for him to feel even a little comfortable answering. he breathes in shakily, shifting in his seat.

 

“i don’t know how well i can answer that,” he says, eyes shifting to look at the river again. “it was kind of a rush of-of a lot of feelings all at once, and it’s a bit blurry for me.” he feels the back of his neck heat up, very aware of jerome’s intense gaze.

 

-

 

 

“i’ll start with relatively easy questions,” lee says kindly, sensing jeremiah’s distress. “how close are you to this person? how much do you both know about each other?” she tilts her head, studying the redhead’s profile. he takes a deep breath, body relaxing. _good_.

 

“we had preconceived ideas about each other before meeting,” he admits. “so actually meeting each other, we discovered there was more to things than previously thought. i’ve been learning things about them, and vice versa. it’s..a relatively slow process, and i blame myself for that.” jeremiah doesn’t seem nervous discussing this part, and lee is proud to have gotten him out of what could have been a very ugly panic attack. she continues studying his profile as she prepares the next question.

 

“do you allow yourself to be physically close to him?” she asks, watching as he turns his head in her direction, but doesn’t fully look at her, the discomfort clear at the bold mentioning of the male pronoun. she doesn’t say anything else, and just lets him settle down again.

 

“sometimes,” he whispers. lee crosses her legs, readjusting her dress. she wants to ask for details, but doesn’t want to push him just yet.

 

“how do you feel about it? do you like letting yourself be close to him? or do you not really feel anything?” she asks, hoping the question makes sense to him. she notices a slightly red tint to his cheeks. _interesting_.

 

“i, um, i enjoy it. i think sometimes too much,” he pauses like he’s afraid to say what he means. lee can’t let him be afraid.

 

“i know what that’s like,” she starts to confide. “when i first met my fiance, i always wanted him around. i wanted him to notice me, and i always found excuses to be close to him or touch him.” she hopes that opening up will help him feel more comfortable opening up, too. lee waits patiently as he takes in the information.

 

“it’s like a craving,” he finally admits weakly. “all i want is for them to be close, and i am always thinking about them, about-“ she notices him swallow, and she has to suppress any reaction to getting somewhere with jeremiah. _don’t_ _get_ _ahead_ _of_ _yourself_.

 

“what kind of things do you envision, jeremiah?” she finally asks. “you’re probably dreading this question, but it’s the important one. do you envision certain activities with them?” lee smiles gently as she asks it, knowing it’s not something he is going to want to answer. he closes his eyes, cheeks definitely red now. “i’ll be specific. do you think about holding their hand? just to hold it?” jeremiah reluctantly nods. “okay. how about hugging?” he nods again, seeming lost in his thoughts. she’s certain he is thinking about him. “do you want to kiss them?” she asks quietly, but the question still seems to shock him. his eyes go wide, and he blinks confusedly, as if he thought of the answer before he knew what it was fully himself. lee thinks maybe she should speak up to try and help him through figuring it out, but before she can, he lets out a whisper.

 

“yes.”

 

the way he says it makes it seem like he’s surprised by his own answer, like he hadn’t really thought about it before, not completely. lee thinks maybe he was still hoping it was platonic, that what he was feeling for this person was possibly familial.

 

“jeremiah, there’s nothing wrong with loving someone, or wanting those things. they are normal. i personally think it’s good for you to experience these types of feelings. i think you should explore this, as long as it’s mutual.” lee tries to hide her concern when jeremiah finally looks up enough for her to truly see his face, his expression is one of devastation. it’s not what she was expecting to see. she decides to not hide her concern anymore. he needs true guidance. “why do these thoughts hurt you so much?” lee questions gently, leaning forward a little, hoping to help it feel more personal.

 

“they aren’t mutual,” he say brokenly. “i don’t want these feelings. i don’t want these thoughts. i just - i want to be _normal_.” but lee doesn’t understand why he thinks it’s so unnatural to feel these things for someone.

 

“this _is_ normal, honey,” she consoles him, taking on a mother’s tone. “you’ve never experienced it before, not really, so it’s going to feel scary. but it’s normal. this is what people go through all the time. i’ve been like this, too.” she pauses, not sure what else to say to help the situation, to help him understand. “why do you think it isn’t mutual?” she asks instead, hoping to get more out of him. but he doesn’t answer for a long time, sitting in silence until he feels ready to answer.

 

“why would _they_ want more from _me_?” and oh, lee _strongly_ dislikes the self-deprecating thought, and she definitely wants to burn those out as soon as possible. “why would anyone?”

 

-

 

“i’m not going to be very detailed, jerome,” the teen says firmly, and he doesn’t even bother to hide his disappointment as he groans.

 

“what, you can _do_ it, but you can’t _say_ it?” jerome drawls out. “it’s not like i remember, so there isn’t anything to be embarrassed of.” bruce still won’t look at him, eyes flicking around nervously, his face a little pinker. “it’s just sex, brucie.” the teen rolls his eyes in response.

 

“yeah, to you, maybe,” he says a bit harshly. “i don’t just-not anymore.” jerome thinks maybe he should ease up, but he also thinks he has the right to know.

 

“what do i gotta do to figure out what i did while drunk off my ass, huh?” he asks somewhat teasingly, wanting to make the atmosphere a little lighter. maybe it will make the teen more comfortable. “would you rather text me? write me a letter? draw a picture? what?” when bruce snickers and smiles a little, he smiles, too. he’s feeling better-ish. _good_.

 

“it’s weird to just talk about sex,” bruce admits. “i’ve never talked about it the next morning, or whenever. we’ve always just went on like it never happened. but i do understand that this is, um,” the teen pauses. “different.” jerome nods in understanding.

 

“i mean, yeah, i get where you’re coming from,” he also admits. he agreed to be more open, so he might as well try like bruce is. “i usually don’t really ever see the people i screw around with again, so i’ve never really had to worry about it. _but_ ,” he starts to add. “i usually don’t get so fucked up that i forget.” jerome has no idea if this is going to ease bruce into talking, but he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. bruce stays quiet, like he’s thinking about what to say. jerome doesn’t know what to say either.

 

“was it just a one night stand for you?” bruce practically whispers it, like he’s afraid to even ask it. jerome looks at the pipe on the dash, and he decides to reach for it again.

 

“i don’t know yet,” he says, somewhat honestly. he lights it up again, inhaling deeply and a bit harshly, wanting a really good hit this time. he holds it and leans his head back against the headrest, letting his eyes close as he breathes it out slowly. “i haven’t figured out what’s going on.” he knows bruce isn’t going to understand that answer, but it’s okay. “you’re insistent that we didn’t fuck. so what exactly did we do? how far did we go together, bruce?” he asks again, not bothering to open his heavy eyes. he’s starting to finally feel a little high. he hears bruce sigh heavily.

 

“we just,” he starts to say. “we kissed, and got undressed, and-“ the teen pauses again, fumbling over how to phrase things. it’s adorable. jerome lets himself smile. _he’s_ _adorable_. “look, i really don’t-“

 

“basically we just got each other off,” jerome interrupts. “is that what you’re trying to get at?” he opens his eyes slowly and peeks at the teen, who is shaking his head in disbelief. at least he’s still smiling a little. “that’s fuckin' hot.” jerome says with a devious smile, and finally, he gets a surprised laugh out of bruce, and now jerome is laughing a little, too. he lets his eyes close again.

 

“you get to ask your second question now,” bruce says after a while of silence. jerome feels more high than he did a few seconds ago (or maybe it was minutes), and he wonders how bruce feels given all the smoke still lingering in the car.

 

“right,” he eventually replies. “wanna shotgun with me?” he asks, starting to raise the pipe again, ready for another hit. it might be the last one with this batch. he might get more. “is that how you ask that? i don’t fucking know.”

 

“what do i do?” bruce asks, sounding so very young. jerome suddenly remembers he still is very young.

 

“just breathe in when i breathe out,” he explains simply. “but breathe into your chest, not your stomach, get what i mean?” jerome takes a deep breath, his chest inflating. “like that. not much else to it.” he tilts his head at the teen, who looks up at him determined but nervous. jerome suppresses a giggle. _how_ _cute_.

 

“i guess i could try,” bruce finally decides. “if i don’t like it, at least i’ll know not to do it ever again.” jerome feels a giddy flutter in his stomach at getting bruce to agree to this. he grins and scoots around in his seat to face bruce again.

 

“lean more towards me, i won’t be able to reach you all the way over there,” jerome mumbles. “you probably won’t like it the first time, honestly, but that’s normal.” he leans forward over the console a little and prepares to light it, but notices how lost bruce still looks. he pauses. “just meet me halfway, yeah?” bruce nods. “just open your mouth a little, and when i start to breath out, just breath in slowly and deeply, ‘kay?” bruce nods again, taking a deep breath, body relaxing a little. “don’t overthink. it’s gonna be totally easy.” jerome gives him another grin before raising the pipe to his lips again, lighting the last bit of green he sees, and inhaling deeply. he quickly sits the pipe on the dash, and locks eyes with bruce for a second, before looking down at the teen’s mouth. it’s slightly open, waiting for whatever is about to happen, and oh, jerome can barely contain himself. he lifts his left hand and cups bruce’s warm cheek, partially to keep him in place, and leans in more, bringing his mouth centimeters away from the teen’s, and starts to gently blow the smoke out. bruce does as he instructed, and deeply inhales, not at all too quick or harsh. jerome can feel their lips brushing, but he pulls back a little when he’s done. he quickly moves the hand on bruce’s cheek down to his jaw to close his mouth gently. “hold it,” he says lowly, his voice rough. bruce’s eyes open hazily, and jerome’s feels a hot rush at seeing him obey. he uses his thumb to drag down his bottom lip, silently telling him to breathe out, and bruce does, faint smoke flowing out between them. the kid coughs a little, making jerome smirk, and it takes all his willpower to pull back a few inches. “well? did you hate it?” it takes a few seconds for the words to register, his eyes a little dazed.

 

“no, surprisingly,” bruce says, voice a bit strained. he furrows his eyebrows and tilted his head.

 

“what?” jerome asks, confused by the weird expression. bruce just shakes his head.

 

“you do that with jeremiah every time,” bruce states, voice sounding far away. it makes jerome giggle a little.

 

“that’s what i said, yeah. why?” his eyes kind of just slip closed and he doesn’t really mind.

 

“you said it was a _bit_ sexual. that was _very_ , um-” bruce says, clearing his throat a little. “i didn’t know you were going to be that close.” jerome snickers.

 

“did you mind?” he asks cockily, knowing full well bruce did _not_ mind at all. bruce huffs.

 

“i just thought that since it was something you did with jeremiah, it was gonna be a little more,” bruce cuts himself off, so jerome lazily opens his eyes again, staring at the flush taking over bruce’s cheeks.

 

“little more what, brucie?” jerome drawls out lowly. “g-rated? _brother_ _friendly_?” bruce locks eyes with him, blinking a bit dazedly. “spit it out, kid. i can take it.”

 

“i’m not sure, exactly, but,” he stutters, obviously uncomfortable again. “you said it was a personal subject, so i’m not sure what i’m allowed to ask, that’s all.” ah, jerome understands now the hesitation and uncertainty. he shrugs at bruce with an exaggerated frown.

 

“no questions are off the table,” he says. “some answers might be, though. feel free to ask me anything. i’m high as a kite, so i don’t mind too much.” he gives a dopey smile for good measure, but bruce still looks a bit unsure. “go ahead, bruce. i mean it. not kidding this time.” he says softly, not wanting the kid to feel embarrassed about anything. “you wanted to talk and get personal. let’s get personal.” bruce raises his chin a little at the words, and jerome absolutely loves how dramatic he is about everything.

 

“i find myself wanting to know as much about you both as i can,” bruce says softly, starting to relax in his seat, slumping down a little. “even stuff that doesn’t seem that deep, or personal, or whatever.” bruce waves his hand absently, his head resting against the seat now. jerome tilts his head to look at him, and eventually takes on the same position as the teen. bruce just blinks at him as he gets comfortable.

 

“like what?” he asks, way after bruce had finished talking, but at least he can remember what they were talking about. bruce gives a one shouldered shrug.

 

“like, the little fact that he steals your hoodies,” he says. jerome smiles softly. “and watching you comfort him showed me you feel...something.” bruce says, not being able to put a word to what he means. jerome doesn’t know either. “i just want to know you, know him, know what you both are like _together_.” the teen finishes strongly, telling jerome this is something that’s been on his mind for a while. he squints at him, trying to read him, but gets bored of it.

 

“ask me something, then.” jerome invites the teen, almost in a daring tone, and bruce looks like he’s up for the challenge.

 

“i noticed one day that your phone background was both of you,” and _oh_ _boy_. “can i see the picture?” bruce couldn’t have asked a better first question. he quickly pulls his phone out and hands it over to the teen, who takes it somewhat surprised. he watches bruce’s face carefully as his eyes study the picture, taking in the way jeremiah’s face looks peaceful for once, the way he’s cuddled up so close and doesn’t care. jerome remembers feeling his warm breath on his neck, and it’s a funny thing to remember, but he remembers it anyway, because he could feel jeremiah breathing at a normal pace, at a calm pace, and that’s a rare feeling. he can see the gears turning in bruce’s head as he starts to put together what he’s seeing. “do you two share a bed often?” he asks his second question.

 

“not anymore, no,” he answers honestly. “that was taken recently, though. he had a rough day, or something, so i stayed.” something feels wrong about that, so he tries to think a little harder about it. “actually, i was the one who had a rough day, i think. jeremiah was asleep, so i just kind of,” he waves his hand through the air. “got in bed with him. he didn’t even question it. it was right before your party, actually. wow, it’s all coming back to me.” he widens his eyes dramatically, making bruce chuckle a little.

 

“so you used to share a bed?” bruce asks. jerome nods.

 

“like i said, we grew up in a one bedroom trailer, and we weren’t the ones with the bedroom, so,” he shrugs, not really wanting to say more about the trailer. “but living on our own, we were so excited to have our own space, ya know?” bruce nods. “but every once in a while, i miss it. i miss him. i guess. i don’t know why i’m telling you this. ask a new question.” he deflects, not liking where the conversation was headed. bruce looks at him confused.

 

“how can you miss someone you live with?” he presses the matter more, and jerome _did_ tell him to ask anything, so it’s his own fault, really. he sighs heavily.

 

“we were a lot closer when we were younger, that’s all.” he says vaguely. bruce blinks. jerome sighs again. “in the physical sense.” he blurts out, wanting to get this over with. “we were practically attached at the hip, constantly. holding his hand, shoving him down to the ground, letting him cuddle up to me when he was afraid of-“ he stops what he’s saying, eyes flicking up to bruce before looking down again. “of everything. he’s _still_ afraid of everything. but he doesn’t ask for help, ya know? i mean, not that he ever really _asked_. he usually would just come to me, and do what he needed to do to feel better. he’s, like, afraid of coming to me now, too. he shouldn’t be.” he looks at bruce, who is looking back at him sadly, with pity, and jerome doesn’t like this anymore, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. “yeah, i know, i’m so fucking whiny, cause my baby brother doesn’t touch me anymore.” he huffs out, deciding anger is the best feeling to settle on instead of sad. who the fuck wants to feel sad? jerome doesn’t.

 

“have you told him that?” bruce asks, completely ignoring his outburst, making jerome fidget.

 

“yeah, why?” he grits out.

 

“have things changed since you told him that?” and he doesn’t like that bruce is acting like a therapist, because he doesn’t need one.

 

“yeah, and then shit got fucked again after i got drunk and screwed the only other person he knows and cares about, so,” he knows he could have phrased that less harshly, but what does it matter? at least he’s being honest. that’s what bruce wanted. “i’m not sure how to fix this yet, but i really want this all over with. i want miah back, and to make you buy me whatever i want, and annoy everyone by texting them constantly. is that too much to ask?” he means for it to sound angry but his voice ends up dying towards the end, making him feel weak, pathetic, _whiny_. he doesn’t look at bruce, but can feel that he is still looking at him with pity.

 

“jeremiah kissed me,” bruce suddenly blurts out, and jerome just rolls his eyes again.

 

“yeah, and?” he glances at the teen, seeing confusion, and ah, right, _bruce_ hadn’t told him yet. “miah told me while drunk. well, i say _told_ , but,” he laughs a little after saying it, and finds it even more funny that bruce doesn’t get it. “how’d that go for you, by the way? i didn’t get much detail, with miah being drunk and not having a full conversation with me for three days now,” bruce is starting to blush again, and jerome definitely prefers it that way.

 

“i don’t really know why he kissed me, but it was quick and out of nowhere, and i could tell he regretted it,” bruce explains, voice sad. “and i don’t know why, but i thought kissing him would make him feel better about it.” jerome’s eyebrows shoot up, not really expecting that, though he supposes that makes sense. “and i think it helped, at first, but then you called him, and i think it finally hit him what just happened.” bruce seems to be lost in the memory, lost in what it felt like to kiss jeremiah, so jerome decides to start talking.

 

“well that explains a lot,” he says loudly, bruce’s eyes snapping up to meet his. “i thought i was going crazy.” and he’s practically begging bruce to ask him what he means, and he can tell bruce is hesitating to ask because he knows jerome _wants_ him to ask.

 

“what do you mean?” the teen asks reluctantly but oh, so curious. jerome looks away dramatically.

 

“well, since you asked,” he sighs out, readying for bruce to be made aware of a very important fact about them. he has a brief thought of ‘ _maybe i shouldn’t expose jeremiah like this_ ’, but figures his twin already did that himself when he kissed the kid. “you know, for me and miah, the whole twin sense thing is very much real,” he starts off nonchalantly. “and i can feel jeremiah’s particularly strong emotions. i could tell he was on the verge of a panic attack, so i started to head home, but then, something funny happened,” he looks over at bruce with a smirk, the kid looking clueless as to where he’s going with this. “i was driving along, and was thinking i should call and make sure everything was fine, but then, i felt something that was very, very strong!” he says around a giggle. “and i rarely _ever_ feel this from jeremiah, so i had no clue _why_ he would be feeling so surprisingly _aroused_ while with you.” jerome finally says the word, watching in amusement as bruce’s eyes go from confusion to understanding to embarrassment to interested and back to embarrassment. _what_ _a_ _wild_ _ride_. “and i could feel it, bruce. but when he was crying about how much he regretted his two-second kiss with you, i couldn’t figure out why he would feel _that_ much arousal, for _that_ long, with what he thought was just a tiny little mistake.” bruce blinks a couple times, his breathing quicker, his eyes distant. “how did you kiss him, brucie?” he asks quietly. “did you show him how much you want him? hm?” he leans forward more, moving his head to try and lock eyes with the teen again. “did he get to show you how much he wants you?” bruce slowly lifts his eyes to meet his, and jerome feels like the air is knocked out of him.

 

“you look so much like him.”

 

-

 

“what makes you think they aren’t mutual, jeremiah?” lee asks, sounding confused. jeremiah can’t explain it all to her, has no way of saying it in a way that doesn’t expose everything she can’t know.

 

“there’s someone else,” he say vaguely, and realizes it could be true. he could make up some girl bruce is interested in, and completely avoid any jerome topic, and any reason jerome wouldn’t-

 

“how do you know they don’t still have feelings for you?” she interrupts his thoughts. he squints, not understanding. “when i met my fiance, he had a fiance.” he looks over at her, completely shocked, and she looks just as surprised to have made eye contact with him for the first time since the beginning of the session. “we didn’t really interact while they were together. we would talk, and i definitely liked him, but i knew better. but their engagement failed because they both had feelings for other people. turns out he was falling in love with me the whole time, and i had no idea.” jeremiah looks away, trying to process this information. “you never truly know how someone is feeling unless they tell you, jeremiah. and if they tell you something, and they are being open and honest with you, don’t turn them away because of your own self doubts. does that make sense?” she is speaking so gently to him, with experience, and it’s something jeremiah needed to hear, and he understands now how much he needs doctor thompkins in his life. a therapist is something he needs.

 

“that makes sense, yes,” he replies quietly. “i want to thank you, for being understanding of my situations and doing the best that you can with such vague information.” lee chuckles, finding that humorous. “i understand why i need you. and i would like you to take time finding the right medication for me.”

 

“i will definitely look into different medications for you,” she says sweetly. “i can still contact you through email, correct?” he nods. “is this the end of our session?” jeremiah hesitates. “i want to make sure you discussed everything you wanted to discuss. our next session will be three weeks from now. i’ll be arriving with a new medication for you to try and all the details on that. does that sound okay?” he nods this time, wiping his hands on his pants again. “while i am disappointed that you decided to stop taking medication without talking to me,” he cringes. “i am proud of you for reaching out when you needed help. that’s a big deal, jeremiah. i hope you realize that.” she gathers her notebook and her pen and stands up, moving around to the other side to grab her coat and purse. jeremiah stands as well.

 

“thank you,” he squeaks out, not really knowing how else to show his gratitude. but then, he thinks of something that he knows she will see as a huge thank you. he moves around the table as well and shakily holds out a hand to her. she hesitates, and he thinks about pulling back, but then she’s taking it in a gentle handshake, and when he glances up at her she is smiling softly.

 

“anytime, jeremiah.” their hands separate, and he truly believes she means that, despite his self doubts, just as she recommended. “i’ll see you soon.” and as she turns around to head out towards the front door, her green dress flares out a little, her short hair bouncing a bit, and jeremiah turns to head to his laptop to let her leave, when he’s hit with a sudden wave of arousal, and it’s confusing, because why would he be aroused right now, of all times? it’s surely not because of doctor thompkins, that would be impossible-

 

and then it hits him again, and he realizes it isn’t his own feeling, but rather his twin’s. jerome is with someone. he feels his cheeks heat up at the observation, and heads to his laptop a little quicker. he unlocks the door and locks it again once she’s outside, and takes a few deep breaths. the session with lee has really helped him mentally, and he thinks she was right about most of the things she said. he shouldn’t doubt himself, and he shouldn’t turn bruce away because of those doubts. he can still feel the arousal low in his abdomen, and tries to push away the jealousy, push away his twin’s feelings so he can go back to focusing on his own, but it starts stirring again, and usually it doesn’t feel this strong, doesn’t distract him this much unless his twin is in the next room. he picks up his phone and thinks about calling him and interrupting much like jerome had when he was kissing bruce, but also doesn’t want jerome mad at him, but why does he care? his twin called _him_. he has the right to do the same back. he goes under his contacts and clicks ‘j’, calling him, letting himself enjoy the last bits of pleasure before they vanish.

 

-

 

jerome’s mouth opens dumbly at the breathless words, and he can tell the weed is starting to get the best of him as his vision blurs out a little. he closes his eyes and chuckles darkly.

 

“you like that, don’t you?” he manages to ask, wanting to hear bruce’s answer. he forces his eyes to open again, taking in how the teen’s eyes travel over him slowly. “tell me how much you want him, bruce.” he watches in fascination as bruce’s eyes fall closed for a second, before they open again, trying to focus back on jerome’s face.

 

“what?” he sounds so confused, and jerome can kind of understand, but what can he say? he’s curious.

 

“i wanna know how much you want him,” jerome repeats himself. “i wanna know what you want him to do to you.” he knows he shouldn’t be saying these things, shouldn’t encourage bruce to say sexual things about his brother, but he wants to hear it, wants to hear that someone wants jeremiah in that way. his own thoughts start to swirl around, and he doesn’t bother filtering the words about to spill out of his mouth. “i bet you think he’s soft and gentle,” jerome keeps his gaze locked onto bruce’s, can feel how hot his whole body is starting to feel. _it’s just because i’m high_ , he thinks. “that he would be slow and careful with you, because he _likes_ you,” jerome _tsks_ at him, and almost cheers at the way bruce can’t look away from him, hanging on to every word he is saying. “i hope he shows you what he’s capable of,” bruce breathes in a quiet gasp. “i hope he breaks you the way i know he can, the way he wants to,” the teen's pupils are fully dilated, breathing audible, and jerome _loves_ it. “just the thought of him has you ready to snap, doesn’t it? tell me you want him.” he says again, feeling his own breathing pick up in speed, and he doesn’t know why this is as hot as it is, but he likes to think it’s just the weed. he’s not so sure. bruce opens his mouth to reply, to say those beautiful words-

 

his phone vibrates obnoxiously on the center console.

 

why does his phone always fucking ring? _fuck phones_.

 

he picks it up bitterly before his eyes light up, and he smiles in disbelief. “oh, you _bastard_.” he answers it. “miah! i was just thinking about you!” his twin stays silent for a few seconds, apparently losing all confidence he had to call in the first place.

 

“i sincerely hope not,” he finally says lowly, making jerome smile wider, glancing at bruce. “listen, i just finished my session with lee, and i-“ but jerome interrupts with a vague noise of confusion. “doctor thompkins-“ and he hums in understanding now. “-and i think i’m ready to have a sit down. with all three of us.” jerome’s eyebrows shoot up, not expecting jeremiah to be the one to say it first.

 

“wow, i did _not_ see that one coming,” he says, expressing his shock. “when?”

 

“not today,” jeremiah quickly says. “but soon. i want this over with.”

 

“yeah, no kiddin’,” he glances at bruce with pursed lips, the kid looking out at the river again, cheeks bright red, but obviously trying to hear jeremiah’s end of the conversation.

 

“but i would like him to come over today, strictly for business. i have the generator completed and i know he wants to be here for the very first test.” jerome tilts his head.

 

“today? right now?” he asks, wanting to make sure he heard that right

 

“can you pick him up?” jeremiah asks hesitantly. “if you aren’t too _busy_ , that is.” and oh, that bitchy tone gets him every time. “ _so sorry_ to interrupt, by the way.” jerome could absolutely punch him with how proud he is.

 

“don’t fret, dear brother,” he says, overly sweet. “i’ll pick him up and head over.” he smiles at the teen when his head whips around to look at him. “see you soon.”

 

“okay.” jeremiah says, breathing out harshly. “um. bye.” jerome giggles a little. it never ceases to be funny how awkward he is on the phone.

 

“bye.” he pulls the phone away and hangs up, shaking his head. he really called to fucking _interrupt_. “he’s such a _dick_.” he sighs heavily, twisting around in his seat to face forward. “sorry to kill the mood, but i guess jeremiah is ready for the first test of the generator. said you wanted to be there for it.” he doesn’t turn to look at him, but instead waits quietly for a response.

 

“i would like to be there, yes.” bruce confirms quietly. jerome smiles tightly as he starts the car and buckles up. he looks over at bruce as he does the same, noting how tense the teen is from being wound up like a toy and left unplayed with. he carefully grabs the pipe from off the dash, almost forgetting it was there and rolls down his window to dump the ash out onto the gravel. he puts everything back in the center console and prepares to drive away, smiling to himself.

 

“so sorry to have teased you like that, brucie,” jerome says, not at all sorry. “being high gives me fun ideas, i guess. maybe that can be continued.” bruce moves around a little in his seat without a response as they start to drive home.

 

“i can’t believe i’m leaving my car at a pizza shoppe,” bruce says in quiet disbelief, making jerome cackle.

 

“if it makes you feel better, _i’d_ be the one that steals your car,” he admits honestly.

 

“it doesn’t,” bruce says blandly. jerome cackles again.

 

-

 

jeremiah fidgets in his office chair.

 

_i was just thinking about you!_

 

at first he thought it was a joke, but realized it didn’t feel like a lie, _at all_ , and jeremiah has never been so thrown off by his twin’s wild sayings before. he supposes he could have been thinking about jeremiah in a totally normal way, but while _aroused_? although, he is wearing his tie today, and he could have had a passing thought about it ( _as it was being taken off_ ) ( _by some random stranger_ ) ( _in some odd place_ ) ( _at eleven in the morning_ ) ( _shut up shut up **shut up**_ ).

 

he hastily stands up from his office chair, running a hand through his curly hair, only just realizing he didn’t flatten it with gel for his session with lee. she didn’t mention it, though he’s sure she noticed. ever since jerome said he liked it, he hasn’t felt the need to gel it down. if jerome likes it, he will keep it this way more often. not that he’s trying to impress _jerome_ with his looks, if anything he wants _bruce_ to like the way he looks, and for all he knows, bruce could prefer his styled hair. jerome said bruce likes nice clothes and rich looking style, which is probably true. jeremiah feels the same way. he grew up dreaming of dressing in patterned button ups and colored vests and interesting tie pins. jerome did well picking out things for him with only color suggestions. he thinks back to the hideous tie jerome left wearing this morning, and jeremiah doesn’t think he’s ever even worn it before. it was probably something jerome got as a joke. he also thinks back to his twin’s disheveled attempt of dressing up, the tie too loose, the top buttons open, the light blue clashing with the navy of the tie and his bright red converse. jerome’s pants were also ridiculously too small for his fit frame, and jeremiah pauses on that last observation.

 

those were jerome’s ‘bottom pants’, as he so eloquently calls them.

 

he went out with intentions, which means he probably was with someone when he called, which makes his insides twist up. jeremiah swallows and heads out of his office to mentally prepare to see bruce again. lee’s advice helped him get into the right mindset, one at peace with his feelings, for bruce at least, and then he talked to jerome for one goddamn minute and the whole thing shattered to pieces. he needs to refocus. he needs to get into a professional mindset, just for this meeting, and then they can all figure out what’s happening. he hopes bruce doesn’t try to talk about what happened between them, but he’s not sure what he would do if bruce does bring it up. jeremiah isn’t even sure how prepared he really is to be alone with him again. granted, jerome will at least be in the house, and can pop in at any time if he senses some bad feelings. everything will be fine. jeremiah thinks maybe he should have texted bruce himself, ask him if he was even available, or at least let him know himself he has finished the generator. he actually finished it the day after the incident in two hours, after jerome went back to bed. jeremiah is still certain he saw someone on the camera, and that the alarm was real, but jerome didn’t find anyone to prove it, so jeremiah had been relieved, but it weighs on his mind. his twin had gone back to bed, but there was no way he was going back to sleep, so he finished the generator. he spent the last two days hiding out in there to avoid interacting with jerome due to foggy memories of a different incident, and he thinks there have been way too many incidents recently for him to even take time to fully comprehend each one of them.

 

he stops in the bathroom to look at himself, straightening and tightening his tie a little, adjusting the tie pin, smoothing down the front of his plum sweater vest. he decides to unbutton his sleeves and rolls them up a little, wondering if navy was an odd choice of shirt with the plum vest and tie and rust orange dress pants. it’s eccentric, to say the least, but he likes the unusual combination. maybe bruce will, too. he pulls out his phone and brings up his texts with the teen, deciding he should say something after days of silence.

 

-hi, it’s jeremiah. i wanted to let you know i have finished the generator, and i am prepared to test it for the first time. i hope you are available as i have already sent jerome to pick you up.-

 

he reads it over for typos, as he still isn’t used to typing with his thumbs, and hits send before he can overthink it, sighing softly. it’s a professional message, like he wanted. he blinks a few times, starting to feel afraid for several reasons. he decides to add on a more emotional message

 

-i can’t thank you enough. i hope it works.-

 

he sends it and looks at himself again in the mirror, pushing up his glasses nervously. he tries to kind of part his hair a little, but the curls aren’t really budging, so he gives up with furrowed eyebrows. should he style it? he stares a little longer and decides to leave it alone, hoping bruce doesn’t think it’s lazy. his phone buzzes on the counter, and he picks it up quickly.

 

-we are on our way. i’ll always be available for you. i’m confident it will work, jeremiah. thank you for thinking of me. see you in a few minutes.-

 

-

 

bruce puts his phone down in his lap, happy to have finally heard something from jeremiah. he hasn’t reached out to the man because he didn’t know if it was acceptable, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting jeremiah further. it seems he has been working hard, though. bruce can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going through his head these last few days. he’s reminded suddenly of selina, and how she showed up at their house that night. he remembers how terrifying jerome was, how cold his smile was, how wild his eyes were as he pulled a knife on her. he remembers his own fear, how afraid he was of the man in that moment. bruce genuinely thought jerome was going to hurt her.

 

“you pulled a knife on her,” bruce can’t help but mumble out into the silence of the car. when jerome doesn’t immediately respond, he continues. “you looked like you were actually planning to do something to her, if i wasn’t there.” bruce looks over at the redhead, who just clenches his jaw and keeps his eyes on the road. “you said you would keep your promise. what did that mean?” jerome rolls his eyes.

 

“i caught her outside, and i told her if she came back, i wouldn’t miss,” bruce doesn’t understand what that means. “and i intend to keep that still.” he shakes his head, still confused.

 

“what do you mean by miss?” he asks, making jerome scoff.

 

“told you i was a knife thrower, didn’t i?” and _oh_ , bruce thinks with dread. “she was hiding in a tree when i came out. she thought she was sneaky enough to get away without me noticing. i threw my knife at her as a warning.” jerome explains as if it isn’t a big deal, as if it’s a totally normal thing to talk about. “look, i know you care about her and all that, but jeremiah’s safety and his sanity comes before her’s.” bruce swallows, but nods anyways.

 

“she won’t come back,” he promises. “i do apologize on her behalf.” jerome laughs, in a way that gives bruce goosebumps.

 

“yeah, you better hope, pal. that shit wasn’t cool. i think jeremiah would have gone crazy if she had succeeded, you know,” jerome says, still laughing a little as he talks. “he’s never done well with people in his space that aren’t invited.” his tone goes dark, and bruce can tell that there’s a story there, but he can ask about that some other time.

 

“it seemed so natural for you,” bruce says instead. “physically threatening her.” he watches jerome’s profile carefully, catching the way the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in a smirk.

 

“did you forget what i do in my spare time?” jerome asks, glancing over at him with a raised eyebrow. bruce looks back out and notices the surroundings have started to become familiar, meaning they are getting close.

 

"we aren't done talking about this." he says firmly, only getting a grunt in reply. bruce breathes in shakily and slowly lets the breath out through his nose. _at least i'm not actually high_ , he thinks, the stench of the weed still strong. that would make his first meeting with jeremiah a disaster. he hopes it isn’t one anyways. bruce briefly panics at the thought of smelling like weed as the house comes into view, but jerome seems to be thinking the same thing.

 

“don’t worry, he’ll think you just picked up the smell from my car. i usually smoke in here so i don’t stink up the house too often, ya know?” jerome parks off to the side of the house like he usually does, and turns the car off, the nerves starting to really set in. “before we go in,” jerome says quickly, unbuckling his seat-belt. “don’t mention selina, or any of that, okay? and definitely don’t bring up what happened between you two. wait it out until he’s ready, or you’ll scare him off. you can pressure _me_ all ya want, but not him, okay?” bruce almost feels bad for making jerome talk about his feelings, but then he remembers it’s jerome, and he didn’t actually get much out of him about anything, except for -

 

well. bruce doesn’t want to think about that right now.

 

he nods silently and waits for jerome to open his door first.

 

-

 

jeremiah is waiting in the building room trotting his leg anxiously when he hears the alarms go off, signalling their arrival. his heart jumps to his throat as all of his previous confidence dies. he stands up quickly, wiping his clammy hands on his pant legs again as he starts to pace behind the generator. “you’re going to be fine,” he mumbles to himself. “it’s going to work. everything will be fine.” he hears a knock on the door, his head whipping around to look at it as it opens a bit to see jerome’s head peaking in. his heart is racing in his chest, and he tries to swallow but his throat feels too tight.

 

“hey, i made him wait in the kitchen so i could come find you first,” and _thank god_ , he thinks, his shoulders and chest deflating, eyes closing in relief. “figured i should check up on you and make sure you aren’t gonna chicken out.” jeremiah opens his eyes to look at him in annoyance.

 

“i’m fine, i’m not going to _chicken out_ , i’m just,” he looks away from jerome’s face and at the generator. “i want this to work.” he admits quietly, not even sure if jerome could hear it. he sees jerome fully enter the room out of the corner of his eye, the door clicking shut softly, making him feel nervous all over again to be around his twin.

 

“it’s gonna work, miah,” jerome assures him. “you haven’t worked this hard for nothin’, okay? stop worrying so much.” he knows his twin is trying his best to be comforting, but he also has no idea what it is he’s about to do, what he has attempted to create. he feels jerome’s hand fall on his shoulder, and the touch is grounding, firm, real, everything he needs right now. jeremiah lets himself lean into it a little. “he’s just as nervous as you are, you know.” he looks at his twin, keeping that information in mind, but quickly notices something else.

 

“you’re high right now, aren’t you?” he asks in slight disbelief. jerome giggles and gives his shoulder a tough pat before he moves away.

 

“hey, had a rough day, okay? don’t act like you don’t like it, too.” jerome quips back, loosening the tie around his neck even more. “i’m gonna go get him.” jeremiah can feel the butterflies come alive inside his stomach as jerome opens the door. his twin pauses though, turning back towards him. “i’ve got so much shit to tell you about, miah. let me know when you’re ready for the big talk.” with that, he leaves the room, not bothering to close the door. jeremiah blinks a few times, wondering what exactly he meant by that, but he can try and figure that out another time. he can faintly hear their voices in the kitchen, and he takes a deep breath, ready to show bruce what he’s capable of. he hopes it’s something good. jeremiah hears the teen's footsteps approaching, so he busies himself with his clipboard with all the mechanics on it, clicking a pen obnoxiously.

 

when bruce is in the doorway, he sees how his eyes are glued to the large generator in the center of the room, taking up the entirety of one of his desks. where it sits, it’s much taller than both of them. jeremiah takes the time to appreciate the way he’s dressed, in a black button up and black slacks, the outfit slick and clean, different than the usual turtleneck sweater. it looks good on him. _no_ , he thinks, _focus, focus focus_.

 

“i have to say, i did not expect it to be done so quickly,” bruce says, eyes still examining the generator as he steps around it. “and i certainly was expecting this size, based on the original blueprints.” jeremiah huffs out a small laugh.

 

“um, yes, it seems i miscalculated the size of the parts necessary to build it in my blueprints, but i assure you, this is most likely the size something like this should be.” his grip on his clipboard tightens when bruce looks at him for the first time since entering the room, but jeremiah is quick to look away. “we shouldn’t have to interfere at all, it should work completely on it’s own.” bruce isn’t looking at him anymore when he looks up, the teen standing on his side of the room now. “are you ready for what i’m hoping to be the first demonstration?” this time when bruce looks over at him, jeremiah doesn’t immediately look away, and he can see the excitement in his eyes. he understands the feeling. bruce gives him a small nod, so he moves to sit down his clipboard, hitting the switch on the side of the generator that should hopefully make it active. “okay, if you hit that switch, the house will be disconnected from our power grid,” bruce strides to the wall to the switch diagonal from jeremiah, ready to switch it off. “probably should have warned jerome.” bruce laughs a little, before he bites his lip, and jeremiah has to avert his gaze before he gets distracted. “go for it.” with a loud clank, the room is overcome by darkness, a loud whirring sound filling the air as everything is shut off, including his alarms and locking system. the room falls silent as they both wait for anything to happen, but nothing does. five seconds go by. ten seconds. fifteen seconds.

 

nothing.

 

jeremiah takes in a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut in utter disappointment, his chest caving in. he thinks he can faintly hear jerome mumbling in the kitchen, probably wondering why the power went out, and it makes it that much more embarrassing.

 

bruce and jerome have both witnessed his failure. he thinks he might cry, because of course he would fail. after the week he’s had, why would he expect something good to happen? he shouldn’t have asked bruce to come, he should have tested it in secret first to make sure it would work before-

 

“jeremiah,” he hears bruce softly say into the dark silence, but jeremiah realizes it isn’t completely dark, or completely silent. there’s a soft buzzing sound, and when he opens his eyes again, the generator is emanating a soft blue light, just as he had designed it to do. the light grows brighter, the buzzing turns to whirring, and the ceiling lights along the wall's edges start to flicker on, soon followed by the rest, and-

 

“holy shit, it works,” he hears himself say, sounding like he just ran ten miles, because it feels like he has, his heart pounding and breathing harsh from the sheer excitement that it _works_. he can very clearly hear jerome in the kitchen this time as he lets out a loud ‘ _woo_!” of excitement for him, making him laugh breathlessly.

 

“i knew it would,” bruce says, sounding equally as excited. jeremiah takes a few steps closer to the teen, eyes stuck on his face as he stares in wonder at his creation.

 

“ambient energy,” jeremiah starts to say, watching bruce start to walk around it. “no cables or wires of any kind. it’s clean and stable, harvested for micro tremors in the air against d-shifts, it’s-” bruce looks over at him, eyes dark. “it’s virtually without costs.” he swallows as bruce continues looking at him with that look in his eyes, one that jeremiah has become dangerously familiar with. he takes slow steps closer to the teen.

 

“we could get prototypes started at wayne labs, and we could power all of gotham?” bruce asks, smiling a little. jeremiah smiles a little, too, nodding silently, watching bruce’s smile grow. he stops about a foot away from the billionaire, the person who helped make all of this possible. “you did it.” bruce says with so much pride in his voice that jeremiah feels like a bomb went off inside of his chest.

 

“it-it wouldn’t have been possible at _all_ without your-your funding and your generosity,” jeremiah quickly adds on, fumbling a little over his words. “ _we_ did it. i couldn’t have done this without your help.”bruce looks at him in awe, like he’s something incredible, and it throws him off, it stuns him, and he doesn’t really know what to do with that kind of expression being aimed at him. but he feels like he’s falling, and maybe he is, but bruce seems to understand what’s happening better than him, because the teen takes a step closer to meet him halfway, or at least that’s what he _thinks_ is happening. they were already so close, which is all jeremiah’s fault, really, but he couldn’t help himself, and now bruce is impossibly close again, so fast-

 

a lot happens all at once, and he’s trying to catch up, but there’s so much, too much-

 

bruce’s mouth is crushed against his own, and there’s a hand tugging on his hair, and his glasses are hurting his nose, and another hand sliding around his shoulders to pull him somehow closer. he isn’t sure where his own hands even are, so he tries to focus on them, and he thinks they are on bruce’s waist, so he grabs harder, pulls him closer, feeling bruce’s whole body press up against his own, and bruce makes a little noise and it’s _too much_ -

 

he thinks something in him snaps.

 

jeremiah bites bruce’s bottom lip and tries to move in closer, but bruce moves back, and he can tell they’ve hit a desk, but he’s not even worried about it. his body seems to be on autopilot as he moves his hands down to bruce’s hips, pushing back harder, the teen seeming to understand what he wants much more clearly than he does, because he’s suddenly sitting on the desk, legs wrapping around jeremiah’s hips and pulling him in, and he lets it happen, lets bruce feel how much he wants him, lets bruce control the kiss, lets himself moan when bruce tugs his hair harder, his hips grinding into bruce’s, feeling better than he ever could have imagined. there’s so much adrenaline coursing through him, so much excitement and arousal and bruce is pulling on his tie now, and his own hands are sliding down bruce’s thighs, drawing a whine from the teen when he rolls his hips again, even harder than the last time, feeling bruce’s mouth gasp open against his-

 

there’s a loud whirring again, and suddenly they are plunged into darkness, the blue from the generator faintly keeping the room lit just enough, and jeremiah hears jerome say “oh, _fuck me_ ” followed by something shattering on the floor, and it’s coming from the hallway, right outside the open door, so close to walking in on them, on what they were doing-

 

his whole body is frozen, hands hovering over bruce’s thighs now, slowly turning his head to look at the generator, and shame starts to take over as everything sinks in. the generator couldn’t even hold the power for five minutes before it gave in, and that’s just for jeremiah’s house. how could it keep more than one home lit up for however long it’s needed? it’s failed. _he_ failed.

 

“jeremiah?” bruce whispers out, a hand gently flattening out against his chest, the other sliding out of his hair to touch his cheek, and it’s so gentle, when bruce should be pissed.

 

“it’s failed,” he manages to get out. “it didn’t last, it failed, and-“ he looks back at bruce, blinking in terror at what he just did to the teen, to his friend, to his employer-“what did i just do? god, bruce, i’m-i’m sorry, i-“ he lifts his hands further away, clenching them into fists, his cheeks heating up in utter embarrassment.

 

“jeremiah-“ bruce starts to say, but he doesn’t really want to hear it.

 

“i failed, and i-did i hurt you? i didn’t mean to-for any of this to even _happen_ -“

 

“jeremiah,” his words die off when both of bruce’s hands grab his face, trying to tilt his head so he will look up at him, but he doesn’t want to look at bruce-

 

“hey, what the fuck happened to the li-oh.” and now jeremiah definitely wants to absolutely vanish, looking wide eyed at his twin who just _had_ to walk in, because of _course_ he would. “uhh, uh oh,” jerome says with an awkward smile. “wasn’t expecting _that_. uh, okay,” jerome points at them, seeming to flounder for words, and jeremiah finally moves away from the teen, which he should have done a long time ago, twisting his hands together in front of himself, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, everything seeming to fall apart too quickly. “we are going to turn the lights on, and we are going to talk,” jerome finally says, voice serious, making jeremiah duck his head further in shame. he can hear bruce slide off the desk, both of them silent. “right now. i think it’s about fucking time.” jeremiah swallows as he strides quickly towards the doorway, not bothering to ask jerome to move as he shoulders past him, body colliding a bit too roughly with his twin’s as he heads to his bedroom, not listening as jerome calls his name, slamming and locking his door.

 

jeremiah doesn’t care that it’s pitch black, and he doesn’t care that he feels like he’s drowning in it. he just wants to fucking disappear.

 

\---

 

_ worthless, _

_ can't keep love _

_ at all. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK i understand if you want to roast me in the comments for what i just did. i'd roast me, too. the talk™ is coming in the next chapter. things are getting sPICY. how nervous are you guys NOW given everything that happened in this chapter? lots of things to discuss. (: yall are not ready for it. let me know all of your thoughts and your favorite moments! did you like switching pov's for this chapter? i felt like it worked, since lee/miah and bruce/j were having similar moments that it would be fine to intertwine it all! please please don't be afraid to comment! i love them, and i always respond! i want to know if yall are still enjoying it. and i love when you guys give me your predictions! absolutely love it !!!! thank you so, so much, and prepare yourselves for............the talk.  
> love you all.


	15. the talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16,000 words of angst and uhh...some other stuff. (^: gotta read to find out! hope you all aren't disappointed with this chapter. it's been a long time coming, and everyone's so ready for it, so i hope it's as good as yall hoped. alright, here we go. hope you enjoy. ❤️

_grind me down, roll me up,_

_press me up against your lips._

_let me fill, fill your lungs,_

_and breathe me out._

 

\---

 

jerome stands in front of the locked door, silently begging it to open, but it doesn’t. he looks over at bruce with raised eyebrows, waiting for some sort of explanation, but when bruce looks at him in the dimly lit hallway, his eyes are shimmering, expression distraught, and _damn it_ , why are things so difficult? he huffs and rolls his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

 

“what happened his time?” he asks with a bitter smile. “what did i walk in on? i mean, i felt a lot of thrill, and excitement, but _damn_ , bruce, he had you on a fucking desk, and i wanna know what exactly happened, and why he’s so upset about it.” bruce is looking at the floor, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

 

“i don’t know,” he eventually grits out. “it was all so sudden and fast-“

 

“oh, come on, bruce!” he interrupts angrily. “i don’t want bullshit. jeremiah has locked himself in his room.” he repeats himself, stepping away from the door and closer to bruce. the teen raises his chin up at him, holding his ground.

 

“the generator turned the power on, and we were both excited, because it worked, you know? and then, all of a sudden, he was kissing me.” bruce pauses and looks away from jerome. “and it was like-like he was a totally different person, jerome, i don’t know what happened-“

 

“what happened after he kissed you?” he interrupts again, wanting the whole story, wanting to understand.

 

“he was-i think it was the adrenaline.” bruce says, shaking his head a little. “he just got really into, we both did. and he just kind of-“ the teen shrugs, and jerome waits a but impatiently for more, his head tilting at him, telling him to _keep fucking talking_. “he slammed me into the desk, and things just started to escalate, a bit,” and jerome lets out a surprised laugh, about to interrupt again, but bruce keeps going. “but then the generator stopped holding the power, and he was so upset. the generator didn’t work as he expected, and i feel like that really is adding on to-to-“ bruce is stuttering, trying to think of the right word for what jeremiah must be feeling, but jerome knows exactly how he’s feeling.

 

“to the embarrassment?” jerome helpfully supplies, making bruce duck his head. “that’s what it is. he’s humiliated and ashamed, and i can feel all of it swirling around,” he moves his hand around in front of his chest. “you and me, we’re gonna wait until he’s ready to come out so we can talk about all of this and work it out.” bruce nods silently, still not looking up at him. “jesus, bruce, if i knew teasing you in the car about him was gonna lead to _this_ -“

 

“it’s not like _i_ initiated it,” bruce interrupts, irritated, and the response makes him scoff. “i had no idea he was going to do that-“

 

“yeah, and you didn’t stop him when he did,” jerome says, voice increasing in volume. “you always just take advantage of the things he spontaneously does. he regrets doing shit for a _reason_. he kissed you the other day, and he regretted doing it, but you kept it going. why did you think that would help him?” he throws his hands around frantically. “now he’s kissing people left and right and regretting it because he doesn’t know what he’s doing!" he takes a few steps closer, the teen’s head whipping up to give him a confused look. "you _have_ to understand that, bruce. he’s never dealt with these kind of feelings before, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. you can’t just keep letting shit happen without being-“ his words falter, his shoulders hunching a little, face falling. “-with him.” jeremiah’s raw sadness takes over his body, to the point it starts to feel like his own feeling, and maybe it kind of is. bruce looks at him with concern, probably not understanding his sudden change in mood.

 

“jerome, i’m just as confused as he is about all of this,” bruce admits to him softly. “i have never liked two people at the same time, especially not two brothers, or _twin_ brothers, at that.” jerome closes his eyes, only just realizing how hard this probably is for bruce, too. “i’m not meaning to take advantage of him, or his confusion.”

 

“i know, kid,” he sighs out. “i know. i’m just-i'm angry, ya know? this isn’t clear as day for you, either. it’s just,” he pauses, licking his lips. “you can kiss _me_ , and i would be fine with it, i would understand it, i would know what i was doing.” the teen looks up at him, expression filled with regret. “but it’s not like that with jeremiah. you can’t keep jumping into things with him because it confuses him and freaks him out. he does everything slow and at _his_ pace, but lately it’s-“ he shakes his head wildly, and bruce nods, understanding what he’s saying. he rubs a hand across his forehead, trying to think of what to do next. he decides to walk back to the closed door and knock gently. “hey, bruce,” he says in a somewhat loud voice. “go turn the power back on, would ya?” bruce understands that he wants him to leave for a bit, nodding slowly as he turns and heads back into the building room. he knocks again gently. “miah? can you at least talk to me about-“ the door clicks and swings open, the few emergency lights in the hallway bright enough to catch the tears on his twin’s cheeks, before arms are wrapped tightly around his shoulders, body colliding with his in a desperate hug that he wasn’t expecting at all. “woah, hey,” he says, shocked jeremiah came out at all. “talk to me.” jerome wraps his arms around his body, holding him somewhat loosely so he can escape when he wants to.

 

“the generator failed,” jeremiah says brokenly, so utterly disappointed. “it didn’t last. i don’t know what i did wrong, jerome-“ and now he’s crying again, but it isn’t the panicked kind, _thank_ _god_. the pure sadness, however, has jerome’s own heart aching a little. he tries to think of what to say to make him feel better when the power whirs back on, the lights flickering a little. he feels his twin stiffen, like he’s preparing to bolt, so jerome quickly starts to talk.

 

“you know, the power did come back on for a bit, so you did something very right _there_ , at least” he attempts to say comfortingly. “and it’s not like this is your only chance, miah. this isn’t like every other time you’ve tried something. bruce will give you a thousand chances if that’s what it takes.” jeremiah relaxes into him again, body still shaking.

 

“i keep fucking up, j,” the weak way he says it makes jerome want to punch a whole in the cement wall. “i keep doing stupid things without thinking about what comes after.” he holds jeremiah a little tighter.

 

“we all do that sometimes. it’s not as bad as you think it is. we just need to all talk about the stupid shit we’ve been doing together, you know?” jeremiah stays silent for a few seconds, sniffling every once in a while.

 

“i kissed you,” he whispers against his shoulder, sounding distressed, and jerome closes his eyes, sighing tiredly. he didn't know jeremiah actually remembered that part. when he opens his eyes again, he sees bruce reenter the hallway hesitantly. he takes a deep breath.

 

“it’s a funny story, actually, but me and you can talk about that alone later, okay?”jerome says it equally as quiet, not really thinking this is something for bruce’s ears. “we can wait for you to calm down before we talk, if you want.” his twin nods against his shoulder, pulling away gently, arms sliding down so his hands are against his chest. his eyes are closed as he takes some breaths, wiping at his eyes. “get in some comfy clothes, it will make you feel better.” jerome suggests, pulling away a little more. jeremiah nods again, eyes blinking nervously when he realizes bruce is nearby. he turns and closes his door gently, but thankfully he doesn’t lock it this time. he sighs heavily, looking over at bruce tiredly. “should’ve brought the weed in for him,” he says, only partially joking. suddenly, jeremiah’s door cracks open, and he’s looking at him pleadingly. jerome shakes his head at him in disbelief, before looking at bruce in disbelief, too. “unbelievable. he opens the door without a second thought at the mention of pot.” he looks over in time to see his twin roll his eyes before the door is closing again. he smiles a little and shrugs. “guess i’ll be back. probably shouldn’t bother him until he gets a little bit high.” jerome says to the teen, still looking just as distraught as before.

 

“is this really a good idea?” bruce asks quietly, sounding unsure. “how are we supposed to have a serious conversation if you’re both high?”

 

“oh, relax, brucie,” he teases, heading towards him. “we aren’t shooting for the stars here. just easing him up a little. trust me, you’re gonna want him loosened up a little.” he walks past the teen, patting his shoulder as he goes by.

 

bruce watches the redhead walk down the hall, stepping around the shattered cup and puddle of what was probably soda, and disappear through the kitchen entry way, his heart still racing in his chest. having jerome’s anger directed towards him is something he never wants to happen again due to seeing how he handled the situation with selina. he wonders if she’s okay. he wonders how mad she is at him. he wonders how long it will be before she’s back and asking for something, as if it never happened. bruce hears the alarms go off, signalling that jerome has actually gone back out to the car to get marijuana, and it has his stomach twisting anxiously. jerome’s already slightly high still, and now jeremiah? how can they properly discuss something in that state? just asking simple questions back and forth turned into a complete disaster in the car with jerome. things got off track, out of hand, and he doesn’t see how this will turn out any better. he looks back at jeremiah’s bedroom door when he hears what must be a closet door shutting. he swallows, taking a few steps closer to it, not really sure what he’s doing yet. the knowledge that jeremiah was crying, was that upset that the generator didn’t work as planned and about what happened between them makes him feel like shit. he thinks jerome was right, that he shouldn’t take advantage of the things jeremiah does without thinking, because he knows the redhead wouldn’t normally do such bold actions, knows he isn’t that kind of person, and yet bruce goes with it and makes things worse.

 

but at the same time, he can’t help it.

 

his responses are just as spontaneous and a heat of the moment thing as it is for jeremiah. but so was sleeping with jerome. it didn’t necessarily come out of nowhere, but it was sudden, and not much thinking went into the decision. now they are trying to deal with the consequences of everything. they all are. bruce still isn’t sure how to do that. he stands in front of the bedroom door for a few seconds before he gets the courage to knock lightly. he doesn’t hear a response so he doesn’t say anything either. but much to his surprise, the handle is turning, and the door his pulled open just enough, and he expects to see jeremiah standing there but he isn’t there. he is instead giving a silent invitation to come in. bruce takes it, knowing he’s lucky he wasn’t kicked out of the house entirely for his actions.

 

bruce has seen jeremiah’s room before, but he wasn’t looking at the room at the time. he was a little more focused on the man having a panic attack. but now he gets the chance to look at the walls, and all the little drawings of mazes, the way the dead ends are outlined red on some and others are left undone. some of them also have lines going through and completing the maze, and he thinks at first jeremiah completed his own maze. but upon closer inspection, he sees ‘try again, brother’ at the bottom of one, a smiley-face with it’s tongue out accompanying it. it makes him smile. he continues to move down the wall next to the door, amazed at how complicated these mazes are, and he wonders if jerome can solve all of them, and if jeremiah can do it without even really thinking about it, if he remembers how to complete every single one of them. he finally turns back around to inspect jeremiah, but feels his breath catch at the sight of him sliding off his navy button up, standing by his bed with his back to him in just a white tank top. he’s already changed into gray sweatpants that manage to be appealing, and bruce knows now isn’t the time, that it’s inappropriate, especially given their current circumstances, but he’s a bit stunned. he isn’t sure why seeing jeremiah’s arms and shoulders is as wonderful as it is, but it’s definitely a sight he doesn’t want to forget. the redhead is picking up a dark green t-shirt, and bruce lets himself take in how freckled the back of his shoulders are before they are disappearing under the shirt. his arms, however, are still exposed, and while he’s seen jeremiah in a t-shirt once before, he didn’t take in how surprisingly fit the man is. he knows jerome is, has felt his body with his hands before, has been underneath him and felt how easily jerome could break him if he wanted (and oh, bruce has never been so grateful and cursed to have remembered it all). he hasn’t been blind to the way jeremiah’s dress shirts seem a bit tight across his shoulders, and the way the buttons strain across his chest sometimes, and how big his biceps look compared to his own (which isn’t saying much, really), because bruce can’t stop himself from staring when jeremiah isn’t focused on him, can’t stop himself from wondering if he’s secretly as strong as jerome is. he felt his strength a few minutes ago, when the brilliant, composed man was suddenly shoving him into a desk, hard, and bruce was reminded that jeremiah was much bigger than him and could easily break him just like jerome had said he was capable of. he swallows and averts his gaze back to the wall behind him, not wanting to be caught staring in case it makes jeremiah uncomfortable. he thinks maybe he should fill the silence a little. “could you solve all of these?” he decides to ask, voice sounding far too loud despite saying it gently. he lets himself touch one of them, seeing how crumpled it is. he wonders how old some of these are.

 

“yes,” he hears jeremiah faintly reply behind him. bruce nods, impressed but not surprised. “ _i_ never do, though. i leave them for jerome to do when he’s bored.” bruce feels himself smile again. he looks at the one next to the crumpled one, noting the paper is from a notebook this time, and the lines are much sloppier and the maze itself not that complicated. it has a note at the bottom that says ‘too easy dork’. the handwriting is choppy and young looking.

 

“how long have you been doing these, if i may ask?” he turns his head to look at jeremiah, fingers still lightly touching the maze. “some of these look really old.” jeremiah’s face is a bit blotchy, and guilt eats away at him knowing what he’s been putting him through.

 

“uh, since i was a kid,” he takes a step closer, eyes focused on the mazes instead of bruce. “i think i was six or seven when jerome brought me this stupid maze book. i got hooked on it, i guess. started to make my own when the one’s in the books became to easy.” he says it somewhat dismissively. bruce smiles at him, shaking his head slightly.

 

“it must be nice to have a brother,” he confesses his slight jealousy, eyes going back to the note at the bottom. “i’m an only child, and it got pretty lonely.” jeremiah lets out a breath at that.

 

“you can’t be lonely with a brother like jerome,” he says quietly, and bruce tries not to notice him taking a couple more steps closer. “he’s incredibly annoying, and he always tried to talk me into doing stupid things with him so he wasn’t alone.” he looks at jeremiah again, watching his eyes roam over the mazes fondly. bruce can’t get himself to look away. “which sounds crazy, but jerome was just as clingy as me, and don’t ever let him tell you otherwise.” he says it blandly, and it makes bruce chuckle a little, catching jeremiah’s attention. they make eye contact for the first time in a while, and bruce feels the guilt all over again. “bruce,” jeremiah starts somberly. “there’s something i have to tell you,” the man swallows, looking away from him. “there’s a _lot_ of things i have to tell you, about me, about jerome. i can’t-i can’t keep it all from you. if this is-“ the redhead shakes his head, and bruce feels his heart ache. “is something, then you have the right to know.” jeremiah is twisting his hands in front of himself, something that always looks so painful, something bruce wishes he wouldn’t do. “but _this_ , bruce, i have to-“ before he can say anything, the first and second alarms are going off, and jeremiah becomes incredibly tense, eyes squeezed closed and fingers turning white, before the third and fourth are going off, and the house falls silent again.

 

jeremiah jumps out of his skin when a warm hand settles over his, eyes blinking open to look at them. he lets his hands relax, taking a deep breath. he feels a sense of comfort, beginning to understand that bruce isn’t angry with him at all, doesn’t hate him for his failure or what happened between them. he doesn’t look at the teen as he pulls away gently, moving to sit on his bed quietly until jerome appears. he hears his twin curse again down the hall a little, and jeremiah only just remembers that jerome broke something earlier when the power went out again. he probably hit that little end table before the emergency lights could kick on. bruce must also realize that he’s stopped to clean up the mess. “i can still send what you’ve accomplished to wayne labs,” bruce says gently. “they can have a look at it and give suggestions on what to try to make it sustain power. they would love to help, jeremiah.” something about the suggestion makes him flinch, as if bruce is implying jeremiah can’t figure it out, as if bruce thinks it’s time for real engineers to step in and get the job done. “i don’t want you to think i want them to take over the project, though,” jeremiah looks up at bruce, seeing that the teen looks a little panicked, like he knew what he was thinking. “i want _you_ to do everything. but maybe an outside perspective could be helpful, like bringing me in to help figure out what piece was missing.” it makes sense, and he knows deep down the teen isn’t trying to offend him. he knows it’s just his mind twisting things around. his self-doubts. he nods silently at him, not trusting his voice at the moment. his heart is still pounding from what he wanted to say a few moments ago, the words close to overflowing, and telling bruce everything he possibly could, because he _deserves_ to know, deserves to leave as soon as he finds out the truth, instead of being stuck with them and getting hurt more than is necessary.

 

but saying those things out-loud is something he’s never done before, and he’s not sure he will like the way the words sound.

 

bruce moves away from the wall to the desk next to his bed, taking a seat in the chair as they wait anxiously for jerome to come back. jeremiah bites at the sides of his tongue.

 

“i hope you don’t mind the whole weed thing,” he says, not exactly proud of what he’s about to do. “i don’t, um, do it that often, or anything, i just-“

 

“it’s okay,” bruce interrupts kindly. “i don’t mind. jerome already kind of told me about that.” jeremiah can’t help but feel a bit offended. “he actually told me about the maze book once, a while back. i just didn’t realize how interested you were in them.” he tilts his head at the teen, blinking a few times.

 

“you said he didn’t tell you much about me, and yet it seems he tells you quite a bit,” he can’t help but point out, a strange mixture of uneasiness and bitterness tainting the tone of his voice. “what other things has jerome told you about me, bruce?” for some reason, the billionaire begins to blush as they stare at each other in silence. jeremiah studies his stiff posture and slightly wide eyes and pinkening cheeks, and he definitely wants to know what jerome has said to him.

 

“i haven’t told him how much of a dick you can be when you’re jealous or defensive,” he whips his head in the direction of the door where jerome is now standing, watching their exchange with obvious interest, and jeremiah is embarrassed that he didn’t notice his twin earlier. jerome raises his eyebrows at him with a slight smile, letting him know its supposed to be a joke, but jeremiah just rolls his eyes and looks down at his lap, feeling his face heat up. “you guys done with your little meeting now? cause i wanna get high as a kite again.” he hears bruce sigh, and jeremiah looks at him unimpressed.

 

“you aren’t getting as high as a kite, jerome,” his twin groans in anguish as he walks towards the bed, pipe and bottle in hand. “we are having a real conversation for once, and you have to be completely apart of it.” jerome sits down heavily on the bed next to him, moving to sit crisscrossed. he starts to feel nervous, not sure if this is something he should actually be doing in front of bruce, the person he works for. though he supposes he’s done worse with bruce that could have gotten him fired. “i just want a few hits and i’ll be fine.”

 

“yeah, based on what i just heard, you’re gonna need to loosen up a bit,” jerome widens his eyes dramatically, making him clench his jaw, eyes narrowing. “can’t have you _too_ defensive and jealous, or we aren’t gonna get _anywhere_ with this conversation.” jeremiah scoffs, shaking his head.

 

“yes, because you are _so_ much better when it comes to jealousy,” he snips back, hands scrunching up his sweatpants. jerome starts picking apart some weed and putting it in the pipe.

 

“you say, defensively,” and _oh_ , jeremiah has to take a very deep breath, or he fears he will kill jerome on the spot.

 

“you know, i almost forgot how much of an ass you are,” he says, making jerome smile and laugh a little as he sets the tray down on his bed and sits up a little, pulling a lighter out of his back pocket.

 

“you’re the only person i can fuck with cause i know you ain’t goin’ anywhere.” he gives him a wide smile, and jeremiah can’t help but give his own bitchy smile, succeeding in making jerome laugh. “hit or shotgun?” he blinks, feeling his smile fall, a bit shocked by the question as he glances at bruce nervously, forgetting he was even there. “relax, miah. i already told him about the weed and stuff. up to you.” and jeremiah furrows his eyebrows, looking at bruce again a little longer this time, noticing the blush has grown darker as the teen avoids eye contact, and he wants to know what the hell jerome told him. he looks back at his twin slightly annoyed, but jerome just looks at him with an impatient expression. he sighs, deflating a little, and scoots up on the bed to sit crisscrossed in front of jerome, not looking up at him. as embarrassing as this is going to be, he’d rather not take a straight hit and die instantly. he hears the lighter flick, and the faint crackle of the weed being lit and jerome inhaling. he slowly glances at bruce again, and his heart jumps a little at the way bruce is watching them, eyes flicking between them both, and he isn’t sure this is such a good idea anymore, maybe he should just man up and take a hit, even if it kills him. but jerome’s cold fingers turn his chin so he’s looking at him, and he blinks a few times, not at all prepared. jerome moves in the same way he always does, waits for jeremiah to part his lips like he always does, and gently blows the smoke as he inhales like he always does. but the fingers still under his chin, and his nose brushing against his own, and the way his own knees are overlapping jerome’s a little without him even really noticing, is all new, is all different, and it has eyes his falling closed, has him resisting the incredibly strong urge to just completely melt into jerome. it’s what jeremiah always does anyway when they do this (resist, resist, resist), but the small points of contact are just making it harder. he wonders if jerome knows that. when jeremiah feels jerome’s face pull away, he closes his mouth and holds the smoke, feeling like his chest is full as he leans back a little, too, putting more space between them. he lets the smoke out slowly, letting his eyes open, letting himself believe jerome is looking at him in awe when in actuality it’s just the way he always looks when he’s a little high.

 

but jerome is definitely in awe.

 

it never fails to make jerome feel giddy to see his smart, good little brother get high, or to get him to be a part of something that is far from innocent. even if jeremiah isn’t aware of the nature of shotgunning, the thought of him doing it so willingly in order to smoke weed with him makes him feel like he’s accomplished something wonderful. he has accomplished something wonderful. it’s the one corruption that is continuous. he’ll always feel proud. watching the smoke flow out from between his twin’s lips has him smirking in a smug way, before something else enters his mind. he openly looks over at bruce, fingers still gently touching under jeremiah’s jaw, and resists the urge to burst out laughing at the dazed look on the teen’s face. _the billionaire brat is at a complete loss after the show_ , he thinks to himself, smiling more when bruce’s eyes catch his and quickly move to the ground, embarrassed to have been caught, as if this wasn’t for him to see. jeremiah suddenly clears his throat a little and shifts where he sits, meaning he must have caught on to what was happening. jerome looks back at his twin, wanting so badly to do it again, but knows he shouldn’t rush his intake. jeremiah is blushing hardcore, though, and he lets out a giggle, because these two are just too fucking shy. his twin’s posture closes off, and he immediately starts to back track.

 

“no, no,” he says softly. “you’re both just too fucking precious, you know that?” jeremiah looks up at him with a confused expression, and so does bruce. “i mean, you’re both blushing messes and we haven’t even used words yet. here,” he raises the pipe to his own lips again. “i’m rushin’ ya, cause you fucking need it.” jeremiah looks at bruce again, hands twisting anxiously in his lap. he lights it and inhales deeply, wanting it to be good this time, and sits it down on the tray. he leans in again, waiting patiently for his twin to look up, and when he does, jerome feels his own face heat up at the hint of arousal he feels in his gut. he isn’t sure who’s feeling it even is, but he ignores it for both of their sake's, jerome gets as close as he did the first time, blowing out the smoke for jeremiah to take, keeping his own eyes open. when he runs out, jerome lets his eyes move to look at bruce, and this time the teen doesn’t look away, instead proceeding to stare as jerome lingers in jeremiah’s space this time even though it’s unnecessary. jeremiah is holding the smoke still, and he doesn’t move back either as he begins to blow the smoke out, bruce’s eyes lowering to where their mouths are. he shifts his gaze back to his twin when he feels fingers barely brush over one of his calves between them. he realizes jeremiah’s eyes are open again, and jerome is still very much in awe of the sight before him and the one a few feet away, and he doesn’t know how he’s gonna survive the upcoming conversation after the fucking day he’s had.

 

jeremiah looks at jerome nervously when his expression gives away that he just had a wonderful and sudden idea. he pulls back from his twin a little, along with his hand that he hadn’t realized he had moved in the first place, not bothering to look at bruce this time, wanting to hold on to a little bit of dignity. he lets his eyes close again, feeling a bit lightheaded and airy and disgusted by the way the marijuana smells. he realizes they are in his room, and he’s going to have to burn candles and spray lots of febreeze to get rid of the smell.

 

“so,” jerome says a bit too loudly. “what should we even start with?” jeremiah opens his eyes and looks at his twin somewhat annoyed by his obnoxious tone. “should we start by discussing stuff that’s happened? or share our feelings about certain things? what? i don’t know how this stuff works.” no one says anything for a few seconds.

 

“one of us could start by saying how something made us feel and why,” bruce eventually speaks up. “and then we can all discuss it.” it’s the first words bruce has said in a while, and it’s a very good suggestion, but-

 

“well, who wants to go first?” _no one wants to go first_. he stays silent, and so does bruce, both waiting it out. “alright, i guess i will. it made me feel,” he pauses, obviously trying to think of a valid feeling. “frustrated, with a hint of disappointment, that you got drunk off your ass as a way to cope with feelings you didn’t understand.” jeremiah stares at jerome incredulously, not believing at all what he just heard.

 

“you’re going to tell me i’m coping with all of this the wrong way,” he snaps out, anger at the hypocrisy of the sentence making his body stiffen. “as if you know how to cope with anything even _remotely_ like this, or feelings, at all, jerome.” and when his twin rolls his eyes, oh, jeremiah has to take another deep breath.

 

“can you blame me for being upset that you downed an entire bottle of whiskey in an hour because you were sad?” jerome quips back, though not as angrily as him. “it isn’t healthy, and you were so fucked up, jeremiah. that’s not the way to cope with shit, you _know_ that.”

 

“oh, then _please_ ,” he sits up a bit straighter, face going blank. “tell me how to cope with his situation.” jerome just squints his eyes at him, smiling a little without any humor in it, until bruce eventually speaks up.

 

“maybe we shouldn’t give coping advice,” he says a bit meekly. “seeing as none of us understand the situation very well right now. but at least now you know, jeremiah, that jerome doesn’t like drinking as a coping method.” jeremiah nods, trying to calm back down before saying anything else.

 

“did it help?” jerome asks him, his tone softer and more genuine than before. jeremiah shakes his head, because it didn’t, at all, in any way. “then maybe don’t try that again, yeah?” he doesn’t respond, choosing to stay silent over saying something snarky or untrue. “alright, you next, miah. share something that you feel about something, i guess.” he stares at his hands in his lap, trying to think of one specific feeling on only one specific thing. when he thinks of it, he takes a deep breath, praying for no backlash.

 

“every time the fact that you two, um, slept together, is brought up,” he starts off quietly, noticing jerome tense a little at the subject in his peripheral. “you both always say ‘we were drunk’, as if it’s an explanation, or an excuse. like it’s the reason it happened. but it wasn’t the reason it happened. whether you were drunk off your asses or dead sober, it would have happened eventually. and it frustrates me that you both act as if you have to lie about it.” both jerome and bruce stay silent, not having an immediate response to his topic. jerome sighs.

 

“you’re right, and i’m not gonna lie, we were gonna hook up eventually,” and the words has jeremiah’s face scrunching up, and his heart aching in his chest. “but we didn’t plan that to happen. i swear to you, that it only happened that specific night because we were drunk.” jeremiah is about to speak out, because it’s _exactly_ what he’s tired of hearing, but jerome keeps going. “i’m saying that, yes, it would have happened _eventually_ , regardless. but the only reason we did shit on his birthday was _because_ we were drunk. if we weren’t, i don’t know what would have happened. i probably would have gone home with that redhead that was eyeballin’ me. i don’t fucking know. but we were _drunk_ , miah. shit happens when you get like that, and i know you know that.” the words are like an electric shock, his body reacting to the words by jolting back and stiffening, face flinching, because no, he doesn’t, not really. he barely remembers what happened, and even then it was just a kiss. they slept together. he shakes his head at his twin.

 

“no,” he breathes out. “i don’t know what it’s like to get drunk and decide to sleep with the first person i can find that’s even _remotely_ interested. it’s something we _don’t_ have in common, among other things,” jerome is smiling and shaking his head, picking up the pipe again. “he’s not some stranger that you will never see again and feel no real attraction to, and you don’t _have_ to be drunk to sleep with him comfortably. you would try it now if i wasn’t here. in fact, every time i’m not around, it seems you always try _something_ , don’t you?” his twin lets out a surprised laugh.

 

“as if you’re one to talk!” and jeremiah wishes he could take back the accusation, not realizing his own hypocrisy before jerome did. “ _every_ single time i’ve left you two alone, shit has happened,” jerome turns his focus to bruce. “and i know that isn’t all one-sided, either.” jeremiah looks at bruce, who seems to be a bit in shock, eyes wide, mouth open a little, and he only just realizes they have been going back and forth without any input from the teen.

 

“i think i should say something about how i feel now,” he says slowly, looking back and forth between jeremiah and jerome. “watching you two fight because of me is something that i strongly dislike,” and jeremiah feels embarrassed, feels shame for acting so childish, and feels frustration because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing in this situation. he closes his eyes, body curling in on itself again, wanting to be anywhere but here, and the damn weed hasn’t helped him in the slightest.

 

“i’m not high enough for this,” he squeaks out before he can really think about it, and jerome lets out a single laugh.

 

“yeah, no fucking joke,” he hears the lighter flick, and he isn’t sure if jerome is taking his own hit or sharing, so he doesn’t move or open his eyes. but he feels jerome’s hand land gently on his knee, so he tilts his head a little, feeling his twin enter his space again. he lets his mouth fall open, the smoke entering his lungs scratchily as he breathes it in, but he holds it anyway, and lets it go slowly out of his nose and mouth. even after jerome has moved back and jeremiah has reopened his eyes, his hand lingers on his knee, the one still overlapping a little over one of jerome’s calves. he stares at the point of contact, angry that he doesn’t want his hand to leave despite wanting to strangle him a few seconds ago.

 

“i feel like i’m putting a wedge between the two of you,” bruce speaks out softly. “it’s not what i want, and i hate that you feel like you have to compare yourself to jerome, or you have to compare yourself to jeremiah.” he looks at his twin’s profile, confused to hear that part. he knew he compared himself to jerome, but the other way around? he doesn’t believe that. “you’re both so unique in your own individual ways. you’re two very different people, and yet you’re so much alike that it’s a bit scary for me.” he watches jerome’s mouth twitch into a smile, eyes focused in the teen as he talks. jeremiah just looks at jerome. it’s easier. “i just-i like jerome, but i also like jeremiah, and it _sucks_. liking two people-it’s distressing, and you feel like you’re going crazy, you know?” _i know_. “it’s that pressure that you-you have to decide, you have to choose who you like better, but that’s-that’s unrealistic, to me.” jeremiah lets his gaze move from jerome’s face to bruce’s, finding the distress he mentioned written all over his face as he stares down at his lap. jeremiah thinks he’s starting to finally feel the marijuana hit, his body feeling sluggish, and his mind not processing what’s happening at full capacity. “i don’t want just one of you in my life. i’d rather have neither of you, and i don’t really want that either.” he blinks a few times, not expecting to hear that, and jerome must be feeling it, too, his hand tightening on his knee.

 

“crazy that it’s only been a little over a month,” jerome says, voice scratchy and distant. “it feels like we’ve been in this shit-storm for years.” jeremiah gives a small smile, and jerome looks at him when he does with a small smile. “are you _smiling_? what the hell is _that_?” and jeremiah is trying to keep it under control, but jerome starts laughing at him, and he lets himself slip, lets himself smile with his teeth on display. he’s just happy to see jerome happy.

 

“you both are so stoned right now, aren’t you?” he hears bruce say, clearly amused.jerome nods, still giggling a bit as he stares at jeremiah. he stops smiling, shaking his head.

 

“no, i’m just-i’m fine,” he insists, jerome snorting out a laugh. he focuses on bruce’s face instead, absolutely adoring the way bruce is smiling at them now instead of looking like he wants to scream. “it’s just all so ridiculous, isn’t it?” bruce nods at him, still smiling. “yeah, i’m a little high, but, just, you’re right. i shouldn’t compare myself to jerome, i guess, but it’s what i’ve done my whole life.” he looks at his twin after he says it, to see him shaking his head with a blank expression.

 

“how are you such a clueless bastard?” bruce exhales loudly, like he was about to laugh, and jeremiah just furrows his eyebrows. “how do you not see how brilliant you are? bruce said it himself. i mean, you just made a thing that holds power, or something. normal people don’t just come up with that stuff, miah. you’re mind is pretty special, and you are such a clueless, _clueless_ bastard.” jeremiah just blinks, and he opens his mouth a little, but has no idea what to say to that.

 

“it isn’t just about-about my mind,” he manages to say. “it’s about personality, about looks-“

 

“miah, we're fucking _twins_ ,” jerome interrupts, laughing as he does it. “i don’t look better than you. we look pretty much the same.” jeremiah lowers his gaze.

 

“the way we hold ourselves, present ourselves, is very different, jerome,” he says shakily. “you’re confident, proud, a bit narcissistic,” bruce laughs quietly at that. “you aren’t closed off, and you don’t have a bland personality or an off-putting vibe about you. people like you, but they never noticed me, never cared that i was there, and i feel like it isn’t that different when it comes to bruce,” the speech takes a more depressing turn than he meant for it to, but it’s the truth nonetheless. they both stay silent, and he’s starting to feel a bit emotional, but bruce speaks out gently again. he always does.

 

“i don’t agree with that,” jerome hums in agreement. “when i first met you, i was nervous. you don’t have an off-putting vibe, jeremiah. it’s one that’s intimidating. you’re in _your_ space, _your_ environment, and it’s like you are in charge, i guess,” jeremiah turns his head and locks eyes with bruce. “you always seem so comfortable when you’re using your mind, and that’s pretty much constantly when i’m around. you work hard, and it’s-it’s an incredible trait to have. yes, you are closed off, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” jerome hums in agreement again, stronger this time. “it just makes getting to know you that much better, that much more meaningful.” bruce moves his gaze to jerome, but jeremiah keeps his eyes locked on bruce, in a bit of shock. “and all the little things jerome tells me about, i love. you just-you’re incredible, jeremiah, and i don’t know how you don’t see that.” he’s looking straight at him now, face determined, and jeremiah probably looks like a deer in headlights right now. jerome, thankfully, jumps in.

 

“there, you heard it for yourself. what’s left to doubt about?” jeremiah still can’t think of anything to say in response, doubts still managing to float around. “what is it?” jerome asks, obviously sensing that something is still lingering. something _is_ still lingering.

 

“i don’t have experience,” he blurts out, the weed loosening his word to mouth filter a bit. “i mean, um, with anything, like friendships, or-or relationships. i mean, i’m not saying that this-this has to be-be _that_ -“

 

“jesus, miah, we know what you mean,” jerome interrupts loudly, giggling at his slow fumble of words. he blushes, managing to still feel like an idiot despite how foggy everything else is becoming. “you don’t need experience.” jeremiah raises his eyebrows at jerome, blinking slowly.

 

“says _you_ ,” he slurs out. “you have experience with probably everything you can possibly experience,” and he isn’t sure that’s a logical sentence, but he thinks they will get the point of what he means. jerome just smiles at him sweetly, and his eyes linger on it.

 

“that’s true, but let’s not forget what i almost walked in on almost an hour ago,” and jeremiah _had_ almost forgotten, his face heating up all over again as he glances at bruce a bit panicked, before looking down again, shame and embarrassment reentering his mind. he wishes he could actually forget. maybe smoking more weed will clear his mind again.

 

jerome watches as both his twin and the teen become unbearably pink from embarrassment, and he thinks it’s ridiculous, really. _what’s to be embarrassed about? everyone gets horny_ , he thinks, laughing quietly to himself. “why are you both so uncomfortable about it? it’s normal. i mean, sure, it was kind of a nerdy time to get hot and heavy, but it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have happened. god knows you both want _something_ to happen, right? or it wouldn’t keep happening. fuck, makes me wonder what other things i’ve missed that you guys haven’t told me about.” he ends his ramble, but no one responds to it, making him wonder if they actually died from their embarrassment.

 

“we held hands,” jeremiah says, voice quiet and eyes distant. “and he asked to hug me once.” jerome nods slowly, staring at bruce, who is staring at jeremiah a bit longingly. he giggles at the absurdity.

 

“it’s been building up to an intense make-out session, then, huh,” bruce rolls his eyes a little, making jerome scoff. “oh, come on, bruce. like it isn’t something you wanted,” he says knowingly. bruce tilts his head a little at him, eyes warning him to not go further. “i thought we were supposed to be completely honest during this whole thing?” he asks bruce tauntingly. jerome admires the way he blushes, face going a bit angry, and also admires the way jeremiah is looking back and forth between them confusedly as they have a stare-off. then, the teen’s face takes on an equally taunting expression.

 

“i don’t think it was me saying anything, was it?” he quips back, and _shit_ , the kid’s right. “we both know you really enjoy talking, so why don’t you tell him about what you did?” oh, he must be learning how to be a bitch from his twin, and he would be proud if it weren’t for how surprisingly uncomfortable he has become. he can feel jeremiah’s eyes burning holes in him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of bruce’s stupidly smug face, breathing out heavily through his nose. the expression may be attractive on the billionaire, but he’s never wanted to wipe a look off someone’s face more than right now.

 

“don’t act like you weren’t enjoying every second of it,” he says, hoping to get back under bruce’s skin. “you were hanging on to my every word, brucie. i had you wrapped around my finger.” the kid’s face falters, swallowing hard, and jerome feels his own face go smug again, succeeding in getting him back down to his level of discomfort.

 

“ _please_ tell me what i’m missing,” jeremiah says pleadingly, and when jerome glances at him, he takes in how confused he looks, eyes blinking dazedly, and he really isn’t sure about his twin knowing about the things he said. “it sounds like you two had a weird conversation.” he scoffs.

 

“ _that’s_ an understatement,” he grumbles out, avoiding eye contact with jeremiah now, knowing he’s gonna have to start talking. “look, i was high in the car, and that’s honestly the only excuse i got,” he says a bit defeatedly, knowing it sounds like bullshit. “some weed mixed with the fact that uh, to be quite frank, i didn’t get fucked today like i had planned,” he hears bruce and jeremiah both make different sounds of disbelief and discomfort, making him feel much better about what he’s about to admit. “and bruce is the one who pointed out how i was dressed like you, and that i looked _so much like you_ ,” he says it lowly, emphasis on those last few words knowing it’s exactly what bruce had said to him. “he started it.”

 

“started what?” his twin almost whispers, tone of voice giving away that he has no clue where this is going. jerome lowers his gaze to his lap, glancing up at bruce darkly, trying to decide what exactly to say. bruce just stares back at him, eyes roving over him quickly.

 

“he was really enjoying how much i looked like you,” he starts off, wanting to make sure he keeps reminding them all of the fact that bruce was just as involved. “so i asked him if he wanted you.” jeremiah doesn’t say anything, so he turns his attention to him to find him staring at him blankly. “i asked how much he wanted you, what he wanted you to do to him,” jeremiah’s eyebrows twitch upwards, blinking rapidly a few times, cheeks turning dark red, finally catching on to what is going on.

 

jeremiah has never felt more uncomfortable in his life. he knows how dumb he probably looks as he stares at jerome, face on fire, heartbeat loud in his ears as they heat up, too. “what?” he squeaks out, voice meek, and jerome looks away with a laugh, clearly a bit uncomfortable himself to be admitting to it.

 

“i _did not_ think this was gonna be this awkward to say,” he says, still laughing. “i usually have no filter and don’t give a fuck, but shit, man,” jerome shakes his head at bruce, and he can’t bring himself to look at the teen. “you got me, bruce. you managed to get me tongue-tied, even while high.”

 

“what else did you say?” he can’t help but ask it, keeping his voice quiet, as if he’s afraid that god will hear him ask it. he doesn’t believe in god. jerome looks at him, smile becoming smaller but still there, and eyes bloodshot. his twin licks his lips, eyeing him, trying to gauge how serious he is and what kind of answer he wants. he wants the truth. he doesn’t know why. jerome looks back at bruce briefly, eyeing him as well, before looking at him again, body turning a bit to face him again, leg shifting under jeremiah’s knee, bringing them closer. he wishes bruce was closer. he could ask. how does someone ask that?

 

“i asked what he thought you were like,” jerome says, jeremiah’s eyes refocusing on him. “if he thought you would be gentle,” jeremiah tries to keep his face blank, but knows that his eyes are giving away everything he’s feeling. jerome can probably feel his shock and arousal regardless, but bruce can’t. bruce is sitting in a chair a few feet away, watching this play out, not knowing how either one of them feel about it. “i told him you wouldn’t be. i told him that you could break him, if you really wanted to.” suddenly, it feels like he can’t breathe, because jerome _said_ that, and he said that to bruce, and bruce _believed_ it, based on how his twin said he was hanging on to his every word, and bruce liked the thought of jeremiah being rough with him. jerome is staring at him intensely, his eyes dark and chest giving away how heavy he is breathing. “and i want you to show him what you’re capable of.”

 

“how would you know what that is?” jeremiah asks, voice shaking, and bruce isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be doing right now. he’s sitting rigid in the office chair, watching the exchange a bit breathlessly, unsure where this is headed. both of them have somewhat slurred speech, and they can’t take their eyes off each other. he wonders if they’ve forgotten he was here. bruce does, however, want to know very badly how jerome knows what jeremiah is capable of doing to him.

 

“oh, please, miah,” jerome drawls out, face scrunching up a little. “i know what you’re like when you stop thinking, when you just let go, and i want bruce to experience that.” bruce stares at jeremiah, waiting for a reaction, but his face hasn’t changed much. it’s blank, but bright pink, and his breathing is labored. jerome seems more in control of his outer appearance, but his face is much more expressive than jeremiah’s. “i can feel how much you want him, so why the hell won’t you just go for it? what’s stopping you from taking what you want?” suddenly, jerome is looking straight at him, waving a hand at him. “fuckin’ look at him. he wants it, too.” jeremiah looks at him now, and bruce squirms in his seat, seeing the genius’ composure slip as his gaze slowly roves over him and his face. bruce doesn’t bother to hide how much this is affecting him, because he wants him to understand that he wants this, that he wants something, _anything_ to happen between them that doesn’t end in regret. “what is stopping you?” jerome asks quietly, genuinely upset that his twin brother won’t be with him, and bruce also wishes jeremiah would just give him a chance.

 

“it isn’t just-it’s not about being-wanting that sort of thing with him, i-” jeremiah tries to explain, but doesn’t seem to know how to word things. “i like him,” he locks eyes with bruce again, and he thinks his heart is about to leap out of his chest. “i like you.” he’s never wanted someone more than he does now, has never felt this genuinely appreciated before. everyone is so interested in billionaire bruce wayne and his money that someone who likes him for who he is is so hard to come by. but this, the way jeremiah is gazing at him, feels so raw, so honest, and it leaves him speechless.

 

“he likes you, too, dumbass,” jerome says, ruining the moment a little, but he smiles a bit nonetheless at the comment, and so does jeremiah. but then, the man is looking a bit distressed again.

 

“but you like him as well, and he likes you, and i just-i can’t just get in the way of that,” jeremiah says, already pushing away again. bruce looks at jerome, not knowing at all what to say to be reassuring. he’s not reassured at all, either. “my feelings aren’t more important than yours, jerome. besides, you met him first-“

 

“it’s not a competition,” jerome interrupts snarkily. “and who the fuck else are you going to meet, jeremiah?” the question seems to shock him, his expression showing it, and bruce hadn’t really thought about it like that either. “this is probably you’re _only_ chance at this, at having someone that-“ jerome hesitates, something he doesn’t do often while talking. it makes bruce even more on edge. “that can love you the way i can’t.” jerome finishes, voice desperate, and jeremiah suddenly looks lost and sad, the room falling silent. bruce shifts forward, the chair creaking a bit, causing jerome to look at him briefly before he’s looking down at his lap, running a hand through his hair. jeremiah looks down, too, body completely still. bruce can’t sit in tense silence any longer.

 

“i don’t want to choose between you as if i think one of you is better than the other,” he says. “because i don’t think that. but, jeremiah,” the man turns his head a little, letting him know he’s listening. “i’m here. if you want to ever-to ever try to have a relationship with me, i’m willing, and that isn’t going to change any time soon.” bruce takes a deep breath, his body feeling like it’s going to combust from how tense he is. “and jerome, the offer-it sort of stands for you as well. i know you aren’t a relationship person, though, but if-if that changes for some reason-“

 

“you’re offering yourself to both of us?” jerome asks, and the phrasing makes it sound bad, like he’s doing something dirty. his ears go hot, and he stares at jerome dumbfounded. the man just stares back with pursed lips. “or are you tellin’ us to make the decision for you?” bruce shakes his head rapidly at that.

 

“no, i-“

 

“so you want a three-way relationship, or somethin’?” bruce glances at jeremiah, seeing that he is just as dumbfounded by the question as he is. “what, did you not realize what you were suggestin’? tell me it didn’t sound like that.” he looks at his brother like he’s going to back him up, but jeremiah just shakes his head.

 

“that-that would _never_ work,” and bruce desperately ignores the disappointment in his chest. “we’re so jealous, jerome, it-that could never work for us.” bruce knows that that is true, and he can hear the disappointment in jeremiah’s voice as he says it. he feels weirdly comforted by that. jerome bites at his lip before looking at bruce intensely. then he’s nodding his head at the bed.

 

“c’mere,” he says, and when bruce doesn’t move, he leans around and pats the bed on the other side of jeremiah. “come. here.” bruce swallows hard, not wanting to move, but he stands anyway and moves closer to the bed.

 

jeremiah stiffens when the bed next to him dips under bruce’s weight, not knowing why jerome invited him over, although he can’t complain because it is what he wanted not that long ago. but now that he’s here, right next to him, he’s not sure he can handle it. especially when his twin is planning something. he turns his body away from jerome a little to help bruce feel more included, and not closed out due to his body language. the teen clears his throat, sounding just as nervous as him. it’s a little comforting.

 

“will you two do something?” and _no_ , jeremiah thinks hastily, _i don’t want to do anything_. “this is for both of you. so you can feel better. i think it’ll help.” jerome sounds like he means it, like he is trying to help rather than joking around with the fact that they are both incredibly uncomfortable. his expression is as serious as it gets, eyes still really bloodshot and hair a mess from running his hand through it so many times. he can’t even guess what jerome is going to ask, because he’s so irrational sometimes, and jeremiah doesn’t understand where some of his ideas even come from. jerome’s attention is on bruce, and he wants to look at him, too, but he can’t. “kiss him.” jerome says it to bruce, but jeremiah’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops, because _what_? bruce doesn’t say anything in response, and he doesn’t even feel the teen move an inch beside him. jerome’s gaze doesn’t waver. “it won’t be ridiculously spontaneous, and no regret afterwards. just doing it without it feeling like the end of the fucking world after. come on.” jerome attempts to persuade bruce, not bothering to even say anything to him about it. he swallows, jaw clenching when he feels movement, but he keeps his head turned in his twin’s direction, waiting for something. jerome's eyes finally move to connect with his. “it’s not like you haven’t before. so just go for it. kiss him.” he stares at his twin, mouth moving, trying to form a response, but he doesn’t have one, eyes blinking rapidly. he wonders if maybe it’s because of the weed and the way the smell is lingering around them that he turns to look at bruce without really hesitating, and maybe it’s why he turns his body more towards him when jerome pushes at his knee, and maybe it’s why bruce scoots up more onto the bed, sitting cross legged, face pink but posture on high alert, seeming to accept the situation. jeremiah scoots around more, his back now completely to jerome, his knees pressed against bruce’s, and it’s strange feeling someone so casually that isn’t his twin. bruce is breathing just as deeply as he is, and he tries not to appear as stiff as the teen, not wanting to make it seem like he doesn’t want to kiss bruce, because he does, _god_ , does he, but what the hell is he supposed to even do? it hits him all over again that he doesn’t actually know how to kiss, and that what happened earlier was a fluke, wasn’t really him, and he starts to panic. but jerome can sense that kind of thing, and he knows that, so when he feels fingers gently brush down his spine, it doesn’t scare him the way being touched there usually does.

 

“i don’t know what i’m doing,” he whispers, not looking at bruce when he says it. he hears jerome move around, feels the bed sink to his left as his twin moves more towards the center rather than being at the foot of the bed. he scoots the weed tray and the pipe down to the end of the bed out of the way.  


 

“you don’t have to know,” jerome says once he’s settled. “you’re overthinking it. just let yourself do what you want.” he remembers his twin telling him earlier to let go, to not think, but he’s not good at doing that, never really has been. “go for it.” jeremiah looks at jerome one last time, feeling lost, and like he’s floating away, before he feels bruce’s hand cup his jaw and turn his head back to him. he lets the teen take control, studying how scared bruce’s eyes are despite his calm expression, and when bruce leans in closer, he appreciates how his eyes are a mix of a cool gray and light brown, and he wonders if they are always that color, because he could’ve sworn they were blue in his personal office, but that could have just been the lighting- “stop thinking about whatever the fuck you’re thinking about,” jerome says softly next to him, making him jump a little. bruce jumps, too, and he wonders what he was thinking about. he wonders if bruce was thinking about his eyes, too. his gaze falls down to the teen’s mouth, his lips parted a little, and flicks his eyes back up when bruce breathes in a bit too loud, almost like a gasp but not quite, and he thinks that maybe bruce really does want him to just kiss him, and jerome stays blessedly silent as he takes a deep breath, reminding himself that, this time, kissing bruce wayne won’t have consequences. they’ve thought it through, they’ve moved in and have given each other plenty of time to change their minds, but neither of them have moved away. jeremiah leans forward, letting his nose brush against bruce’s, their forehead’s touching. the teen’s eyes fall closed as he pushes into it, making jeremiah’s nose fall to the right side, and bruce is tilting his head and pushing in more, so he closes his eyes-

 

jeremiah stops breathing when bruce’s mouth finally presses against his, firmly but not harshly, and he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do. he remembers the way bruce had moved his lips when they first kissed, but he wants to wait for him to do it, wants bruce to lead this. bruce separates their mouths, but doesn’t go far, both of his hands on his face now pulling him in again, lips closing gently against his own, and it feels so intimate, so caring, that he can’t help breathing in shakily through his nose, his face cradled by hands that are too rough for a billionaire playboy. his own are clenched in his sweatpants, not knowing what’s appropriate right now, and when bruce separates again and pushes in even harder, he thinks he’s going to melt from the heat flooding every inch of his face and body. he swallows down the noise he knows was about to come out, not wanting to embarrass himself any more than he already is with his lack of knowledge on simple things like kissing and hand etiquette while you’re kissing, and he needs to properly breathe, needs to cool down, needs to _think_ -

 

he pulls away a bit too suddenly, bruce’s hands letting his face slide away as he takes in a deep breath, his eyes staying closed for fear of seeing either one of their reactions. “i need to-i can’t do this-“ jerome’s hand is on his knee again, the heat of his palm seeping through the sweatpants he’s wearing, and it’s overwhelming rather than grounding. “it’s too much for me, i don’t-“ bruce’s hands are back to cradling his face gently, thumbs stroking under the frames of his glasses, and he can’t help but lean into it again, into bruce again, seeking some form of reassurance or comfort or _something_ -

 

“you keep thinking that you don’t know what you’re doing, and i know it freaks you out,” bruce says, the words filling the space between their mouths. “you’re used to doing things that you know how to do, and you’re great at those things. but you can’t learn if you don’t practice. i don’t think you need to practice, personally, but you don’t feel comfortable doing this with me, and the only way to get better about it is to keep trying until you do feel okay with it.” the words make sense to his foggy, panicked mind, but he doesn’t see how bruce could think he doesn’t need practice. of course he does, he’s never done this before, so there’s no way he’s _good_ at it. he keeps his eyes closed, but he slowly unclenches his hands from his sweatpants, shakily easing his fingers open. he wants to be good at it. for bruce, he wants to be perfect. he wants to be whatever it is bruce sees in him. he’s not even fully sure what that is. “it’s like jerome said; you’re body knows what it wants. just do what you think feels right, and it will be. kiss me.” he leans in, forehead bumping into bruce’s again, and the teen’s hands pull at his face a bit desperately. “please.” and _oh_ , bruce sounds so pretty when he begs, and it’s something he wants to hear again, but doesn’t know how. he thinks maybe he should kiss him. it’s what bruce wants. it’s what _he_ wants. ( _it’s what jerome wants?_ ) ( _shut up._ ) jeremiah pushes in, harshly pressing his lips to bruce’s, leading to the teen breathing out heavily through his nose at the sudden contact, probably not expecting it. bruce pushes back greedily, and jeremiah is feeling a bit dizzy from the weed and the fact he hasn’t been breathing much, since the areas he breathes with have been a bit preoccupied, and he isn’t used to feeling this good, this light, this _hot_ , so he just pushes in even harder. he feels jerome’s hand squeeze his knee, and he holds in a sound again, the reminder that he’s in his bed, kissing _bruce wayne_ , almost giving him a heart attack. jeremiah’s hand is being grabbed by jerome and moved to rest on bruce’s thigh, and oh, now bruce is licking gently at his lips, so he opens his mouth, not really sure if that’s right, but it _feels_ right, and that’s the point of this, _right_? one of the teen’s hands slide to the back of his head, gripping his hair and pulling him closer at the same time, and bruce’s tongue touches his own, and he doesn’t know what to do with that at all, so he just squeezes bruce’s thigh, and _oh no_. the action draws a glorious moan out of the teen, sending a jolt through jeremiah. he moves his tongue a little against bruce’s, before the teen’s mouth his closing again, and he’s pulling back, and _no no no, not yet_ -

 

jerome feels like his head is on fire as he watches what’s happening right in front of his face, and despite bruce pulling back, his twin presses in again, his mouth seeking out the teen’s desperately. jerome didn’t realize this is where it was headed when he suggested they kiss. and yes, maybe he should have taken into account that everyone was left a little strung tight today, but he just wanted them to have a calm, regret-free kiss for once. its seems they’ve gotten more than they bargained for, jerome included. he studies the fact that jeremiah is still hesitant to actually touch bruce, and it doesn’t make sense, seeing as he just watched them use their tongues, so he thinks he should intervene a bit again. he scoots closer, and he knows it’s wrong, knows this is their moment, but _fucking hell_ , he wants to be a part of this. he resists the urge to touch bruce and instead goes for his brother’s right hand, the one farthest from him. it’s sitting their uselessly in his lap, so he uses his right hand to pull it up and away, but doesn’t place it anywhere, leaving that to jeremiah. he can see the way he falters while kissing bruce, his brain obviously switching back on for a second to process where to put his hand.

 

“his waist.” he hears himself mumble, not being able to stop himself from giving some sort of guidance. it’s where _he_ would put his hand. jeremiah should do it, too. he watches closely as his twin’s hand moves hesitantly upwards some more, and then it starts to move forward, and his fingers brush the teen’s waist, but it isn’t _enough_ \- “come on,” he grumbles roughly, and enjoys the way jeremiah gasps through his nose at his words. “he just begged you to kiss him, and you can’t even touch him properly?” he _tsks_ , shaking his head, eyes glued to the way their mouths are moving together. he’s never watched two people kiss meaningfully, and he’s never watched bruce kiss anyone, period, and jeremiah, well. he wonders for a second if this is how he looks kissing someone, but realizes that, no, it wouldn’t be what he looks like. jeremiah’s hand finally moves to fully land on bruce’s waist, and the teen makes another noise, and he thinks his brother is about to lose his mind. he doesn’t blame him, seeing as the little noises are getting to him, too, but he wonders how long it will take, how far it will go before jeremiah has to stop, has to breathe again, before he starts doubting himself. he’s still pleasantly surprised that they are going as far as using their tongues, and he takes in the deep flush on bruce’s face and the effort he’s obviously putting in to hold himself back from _something_. his back is arched forwards but rigid, hands staying firmly on jeremiah’s face and in his hair, his own face strained like he’s trying to stay in control, and _god_ , he wants bruce to lose it. he wants the rich brat to submit, to beg again, to give himself over. the kiss isn’t calm and caring like it was when they started, and jerome wants to scream at how unfair it is that he’s on the sidelines, but it isn’t his moment, it _isn’t_ , not this time. he needs to let jeremiah be wanted, let jeremiah experience what it’s like to want someone and actually have them, taste them, feel them. he wonders what bruce tastes like right now. jeremiah will taste like toothpaste and weed mixed together, something bruce has probably never tasted before. it’s something jerome hasn’t tasted either. he wonders if bruce will taste like jeremiah now.

 

his phone starts buzzing in his back pocket, pulling him back into focus, and he feels anger when jeremiah pauses and pulls away a bit, both of them breathing heavily. he pulls it out and slides it off the bed behind him, crashing onto the floor carelessly as his eyes stayed glued to them. _fuck phones_ , he thinks bitterly for the second time today. when they don’t continue, he starts to focus back in on his own arousal knowing jeremiah will feel it. he thinks back on the sound of bruce moaning when jeremiah opened his mouth for him, the way he said _please_ so jeremiah would kiss him, how desperate and needy his hands were, gripping and pulling, and when his twin turns his head enough to look at him, his mouth drops open a little. he’s never seen jeremiah like this. his pupils are blown, cheeks rosy, lips swollen, hair a wreck from bruce’s hands, and when he turns his gaze to the billionaire, he’s thrilled to see he’s just as much of a disaster, eyes trained on jeremiah still, seeming to be in shock. his eyes flick back over to his twin, who’s looking at him still, and he wonders what’s supposed to happen now.

 

bruce turns his attention to jerome to see why jeremiah is looking at him, and oh. oh, he understands now. the redhead is looking at them, his cheeks red, and jerome valeska blushing is like having a sunny, warm day in gotham. his green eyes are drowned in black from how dilated his pupils are, and he knows it’s because he was watching them kiss. jerome is actually turned on right now because of _them_. he’s not the only one who enjoyed it, though. bruce has never had to show that much self-restraint before in his life. the urge to crawl in jeremiah’s lap, or to pull jeremiah on top of him, or to pull away and beg for the man to do something to him, anything, whatever he wanted. he already misses the feeling. he wants to kiss him again. but jeremiah’s eyes are still stuck on jerome, and vice versa, and he remembers how jerome had talked about jeremiah in the car, how he said that jeremiah could break him, that he knew what he was capable of, and it’s a horrible thought, really, and he shouldn’t be thinking it, because it’s ridiculous, and perverted, and wrong-

 

jerome’s eyes suddenly shift to him again, and he feels like the air has been knocked out of him. it’s pure lust, and disappointment, and _why is he disappointed_?

 

“if you think about it, we didn’t even fucking talk about anything, but i’m not sure that’s what will fix this.” jerome says, eyes moving back and forth between them. “i think i should leave.” he feels jeremiah stiffen under his hands, obviously about to panic, so bruce jumps in first.

 

“why?” he asks, watching the way jerome freezes in his process of moving away, head whipping up to look at him surprised. “why leave?” jeremiah looks at him, too, but he keeps his eyes on jerome, waiting for an answer, trying to hide his own panic. he wants jerome to stay, but he can’t ask him to stay, it would sound crazy, but at the same time, being alone with jeremiah right now in their current situation sounds like a dream come true. jerome’s eyes flick to jeremiah briefly, and he squints at bruce suspiciously, making him feel uncomfortable. maybe he’s being too obvious about wanting jerome here, maybe he should just let him leave and see where this goes with jeremiah-

 

“why leave?” jeremiah whispers, his breath warm against his cheek. bruce looks at him, but jeremiah’s eyes are downcast, hand clenching bruce’s shirt a little. he wasn’t expecting those words to come from jeremiah, at all, and he doesn’t think jerome was either, because he hasn’t said a word still. jerome is never quiet. he always has something stupid to say, something to turn the situation into a joke.

 

“why leave?” jerome eventually asks, voice sounding final, as if they’ve all come to a conclusion. “we could talk more, or we could smoke more weed, or i could watch you make out again,” and there it is, the joke to make this seem less serious. jeremiah shakes his head, letting out a huff of a laugh.

 

“don’t be a creep,” jeremiah says, but he doesn’t say it with much force behind it. he observes the way jerome smiles at jeremiah, his teeth looking too sharp.

 

“i’m high and horny, i’m bound to be a little creepy,” jeremiah mumbles out an ‘ _oh my god_ ’, and bruce just raises his eyebrows at the man for saying such a bold thing. he should be used to it by now. “so what if i enjoyed watching you guys make out? it’s not like either of you have actually stopped touching each other since you stopped,” bruce becomes aware of his hands still gently resting low on jeremiah’s neck, and jeremiah’s hand still on his thigh and clenched in his shirt. “don’t act like you aren’t ready to jump back into it as soon as possible. but _fine_ ,” he puts his hands up defensively. “let’s talk! so, do you regret it this time?” he smiles overly sweetly at them, eyes heavy and still red and dilated, giving away he _is_ high and horny, just like he said he was.

 

“no,” bruce answers, looking at jeremiah. the redhead looks at him, blinking a few times before he responds.

 

“no,” he sounds surprised, and jerome suddenly gives a loud clap, making the both of them jump.

 

“alright! see? it feels great to just make out and have a good fucking time, right? should happen more often. are you both okay with this happening more often?” he’s still smiling as he rapidly speaks, and bruce feels like this is a more serious question than he’s trying to make it seem. nonetheless, he knows his own answer, but the thought of jeremiah having a different one has his stomach twisting into knots. but he’s looking at bruce just as nervously, and he’s hoping that it’s because he’s also afraid bruce will say no. he nods slowly, and jeremiah’s mouth twitches up a little and his eyes light up, and he’s nodding, too. “well, shit, why am i still here, then?” and it hits him why he thought this felt serious to it’s core. jerome is taking this as a sort of rejection, like he’s giving them permission to be together, and he shouldn’t even be here so that he can’t come between them, literally. jeremiah scrunches up his eyebrows and looks at his twin, seeming to come to the same conclusion as him. jerome just raises his eyebrows at them, shrugging exaggeratedly.

 

“so, what, you’re just gonna cut yourself out completely without actually discussing this?” jeremiah asks agitatedly, and _great_ , he thinks sarcastically. there goes the good vibes they all had. they seem to always be short-lived.

 

“what’s there to discuss?” jerome laughs out. jeremiah’s hands slip away from, and he feels his heart sink as he does the same.

 

“there’s _plenty_ we could discuss,” jeremiah says. “like how he also makes _you_ happy.” jerome scoffs, looking away from them as if it’s a stupid thing to even bring up. “and how you weren’t jealous at all that i was kissing bruce and you weren’t.” his eyes snap back to jeremiah when he says that, his tone very confused, but bruce keeps quiet.

 

“oh, i was jealous that i wasn’t _involved_ ,” jerome says, making bruce swallow. “but tell me, if i kiss him right now, would you be jealous that it wasn’t you?” jerome’s tone is starting to get snippy again, something bruce doesn’t want.

 

“i don’t want anyone upset again,” he throws out there quickly, wanting to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. “let’s backtrack a little-“

 

“talking just gets us stuck in an infinite loop of ‘he makes you happy, too’ bullshit that doesn’t actually matter,” jerome says over him. “it doesn’t. jeremiah isn’t going to ever meet someone else. i’m not gonna be a selfish prick just cause i wanna fuck the same person. i can find someone else. it doesn’t matter.” bruce ignores the way the words sting, knowing jerome is just trying to get a reaction and to push him away.

 

“liar,” jeremiah says quietly, but strongly, the word shocking jerome. bruce looks at jeremiah, thrown off as well.

 

“excuse me?” jerome says blandly.

 

“liar,” he repeats himself louder, voice still calm. “i’m not going to let you lie to me, or to bruce, or to yourself, jerome. it _does_ matter, because you actually like him.” jerome rolls his eyes, getting ready to respond, but jeremiah doesn’t let him. “you’ve never liked someone before. he’s different. and yes, i know we are being repetitive, but it’s because we aren’t being _honest_.” he doesn’t say it like bruce is included in that, but he’s starting to feel guilty anyways for not saying what he really wants. “what do you want, jerome? everyone keeps asking me, asking for my truth, but what do _you_ want?” jerome’s face is stony, but then it cracks, and his expression becomes somewhat sad.

 

“i want a lotta things, miah,” he says. “i want you to be happy for once. i want bruce to like me regardless of how much of a dumbass i am. i want you to be with bruce because you’ve adored him from a distance for _way_ too long. i want bruce to be with you because you’re good. you do good things, and you’re useful to his company, and he makes you so excited to work again. you didn’t go into this project with the mindset that it wasn’t going to work and that it was pointless. you wanted to prove yourself. _i_ wanted you to prove yourself. you’re amazing, and i want to show you off to someone, and it just so happens that bruce sees _everything_ in you that i’ve _always_ seen. take that and run with it, miah. don’t be stupid.” jerome finishes his rant, and everyone is stunned into silence, not expecting something so genuine from him.

 

jeremiah feels his eyes fill with tears as he stares at his twin in awe. he’s also staring at him with anger. he sees jerome’s face cringe as he realizes what jeremiah is feeling, but he doesn’t allow his twin enough time to backtrack.

 

“i hate this,” he grits out, feeling bruce’s eyes fall on him. “i hate that you are just _so willing_ to sacrifice your own feelings and happiness for me. it’s not right. it pisses me off, jerome, but i just-“ he closes his eyes, hating that he’s crying over what jerome said. “why do you have to care about me? you don’t give a shit about anyone, but you have to be so nice to me, and you’re starting to do the same for bruce, but you manage to push us away at the same time and it-it doesn’t make _sense_.” his voice takes on a manic tone, and when a hand gently touches his knee, he opens his eyes to see whose hand it even is. he’s shocked to see that it’s bruce’s. “why can’t we just-why can’t we make this work?” he takes his glasses off and wipes at his eyes before the tears can actually fall, because he’s sick of crying and looking so damn pathetic.

 

“okay.” he hears jerome say, and when he looks up, his twin is leaning forward in bruce’s direction, and bruce’s eyes go wide as jerome suddenly kisses him. jeremiah’s own eyes go wide, staring at how gently jerome’s mouth is pressed against the teen's, both of their eyes falling shut, and he doesn’t even really have time to process it before his twin is pulling back again. bruce looks at jerome absolutely dumbfounded, obviously as unprepared for that as jeremiah, and honestly, what the hell was _that_ about? “well?” jerome asks expectantly. jeremiah shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest.

 

“well, _what_?” he asks incredulously, very confused. jerome looks at him like he’s an idiot.

 

“are you mad that i just did that?” jeremiah opens his mouth, but ends up just shaking his head, still confused. jerome sighs, rolling his eyes. “were you jealous?” jeremiah scoffs.

 

“jealous? you kissed him for two seconds, what is there to be _jealous_ of?” and he knows that it comes off as a challenge, and it’s a dangerous thing to do with jerome, but he can’t help it. he doesn’t know where jerome is going with this. his twin tilts his head, obviously considering it as a challenge, and then looks at bruce determined. jeremiah is suddenly nervous, not really sure if it will be a good thing or bad thing if he gets jealous. he looks forward to examine bruce, who swallows nervously and nods. jerome scoots even closer somehow and grabs the teen’s face gently, pulling him closer and kissing him again, just as softly as the first time. jeremiah feels his stomach twist, and he isn’t sure what exactly it means yet. but then bruce leans into it more, and so does jerome, and he has never actually seen anyone kiss in real life up until now. the fact that one person is bruce wayne and the other is his twin brother is what’s making his stomach twist, and he has a repeating thought of _it’s not me, it’s not me, it’s not me_. he wants them to stop. he wants them to remember he’s here. he wants them to pay attention to _him_ , too. he’s jealous. jerome pulls back suddenly and looks at him, apparently sensing the jealousy, leaving bruce lost and confused.

 

“why are you jealous?” jerome asks him. he notices the way bruce’s eyebrows scrunch together, but then understanding fills his eyes, and he wants to know what he understands that jeremiah doesn’t.

 

“it isn’t me.” he says simply, not looking at his twin.

 

“because you aren’t being kissed by someone, or because you aren’t getting to participate?” jeremiah doesn’t like the way he says _someone_ instead of _bruce_ , but the question itself is confusing. he tilts his head at jerome, hoping to express that he doesn’t understand the question.

 

“that’s the same thing,” he says, but jerome just shakes his head at him, looking like he knows something jeremiah doesn’t, and will one of them _please_ just fill him in?

 

“no,” jerome starts to explain. “when i said i was jealous earlier because i wasn’t involved, i didn’t mean i was wishing it was just me and bruce making out somewhere instead of you and bruce.” he squints at his twin, who just smiles tightly. “i meant that i was jealous because i couldn’t join you.” jeremiah stares blankly at jerome for a few seconds, not sure he heard that correctly. but jerome just holds his smile, and blinks at him slowly. he glances at bruce, who looks like he’s about to pass out, and he’s worried at first, but when he looks up and meets eyes with jeremiah, his eyes are dark, hopeful, desperate. jeremiah takes in a shuddering breath because jerome is serious, and bruce seems like he’s not all that opposed to-

 

“wait, you mean you took that three-way relationship idea of yours seriously?” he asks, completely baffled and wanting to make sure he’s understanding this correctly. his twin looks at him very seriously, and _shit_ , jeremiah still doesn’t think it will work, and it’s such a ridiculous dream to even have- “jerome, it won’t work-“

 

“were you jealous because it wasn’t you being kissed, or because you weren’t participating with us?” jerome asks him again slowly, like it will make the question easier to answer, and up until now he thought he knew the answer. he looks at bruce desperately, hoping he has something helpful to add, but bruce just keeps his head turned in jerome’s direction, waiting for an answer, too.

 

“how do you even-you can’t just kiss two people at the same time, it doesn’t-“ jeremiah fumbles, trying to process how this could even work and throwing out any reason it won’t work. he can’t just accept this blindly without weighing the pro’s and con’s, or without fully understanding what he would be getting into.

 

“alright, just-“ jerome interrupts quickly before he can add anything else. “here, bruce, just-will you kiss him again? please?” and jerome never says please, and _wait_ , bruce is going to kiss him again? he locks eyes with the teen as he moves into his space again, but he pauses. jeremiah furrows his eyebrows, heart racing.

 

“trust me, okay?” bruce says softly, touching his face gently with his left hand, looking at him with a pleading look. he nods silently, swallowing hard, enjoying the feel of bruce’s thumb rubbing gently across his cheekbone, his glasses no longer in the way. when bruce closes his eyes and leans in some more, jeremiah lets him, accepting the kiss like it’s something so normal for them. bruce’s lips are soft, and he’s already resisting the urge to lick at them, bite down on them, because they just started, and it’s inappropriate, especially with jerome watching. and speaking of jerome, his twin is touching his knee again, and whispering ‘trust me’ a bit urgently, like jeremiah is about to panic, and maybe he is, he isn’t sure anymore. bruce gasps his mouth open, but jeremiah didn’t do anything, not yet, so he slowly peeks his eyes open, wondering if _jerome_ is doing something and-

 

oh. he didn’t even feel jerome enter their space, but he’s most certainly here, and he’s kissing up the side of bruce’s neck. jeremiah has to pull away a little, has to see what’s going on. bruce whines when he does, though, and it sends a shocked thrill through him, not ready for such a needy noise. he wants to hear it over and over again. his eyes are stuck on the way bruce’s face looks, eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed softly as his mouth falls open, taking in the feeling of jerome’s mouth running hotly up his neck, but his twin is at bruce’s jaw now, and he thinks he sees teeth-

 

bruce is pulling him back in with a hand in the back of his neck, and jeremiah can’t fight it. he meets bruce halfway, kissing him hard, wanting to convey that he wants bruce, that he wants to hear any noise he’s willing to make, wants to taste him again the way jerome is getting to right now. he licks at bruce’s lips, begging them to open for him, and they do, along with a soft, low moan that jeremiah _loves_. but then bruce is being pulled away, and is moaning again, but it’s muffled. he opens his eyes to see bruce melting into jerome, who is kissing him hungrily, and the sight makes jeremiah’s heart leap in his chest, has his jaw dropping because _jesus christ_ he wants to be someone in that kiss but he doesn’t know who. bruce is taking jerome’s tongue so easily into his mouth, and jerome is _taking, taking, taking_ , and _fuck_ , jeremiah understands now how badly he wants to participate. bruce’s hands have moved away from him and tangled into jerome’s hair, and his position looks so uncomfortable, his legs still crossed but body twisted to the right to kiss jerome, and there has to be a better position for that. he decides to shift positions himself, uncrossing his legs and kneeling instead, and it allows him to lean forward more and get much better access to the things he wants. jeremiah places his right hand on the teen’s thigh and moves in a bit of a daze, his brain not intervening at all for once. he moves it around and pulls at the back of bruce’s leg bravely, silently trying to tell him to shift around, to get comfortable, and make things easier. bruce understand the hint, letting jeremiah lift his leg up a little, and the teen shifts around so that he’s kneeling, too, his lips never disconnecting from jerome’s. he places his hand back onto the top of his thigh, running it up slowly, only feeling a little bundle of nerves at touching someone with explicit permission. but when bruce doesn’t explicitly decline and instead moans, he keeps touching him, not knowing what else he should do. jerome hums and pulls back, looking at jeremiah.

 

“his neck,” his twin says helpfully. “do what i did.” bruce pulls him back in, and it’s incredible, really, and jeremiah is starting to feel a bit unnecessary. but he thinks he should do what jerome said, despite the anxiety that comes with it. _what if i do it wrong_? he thinks to himself. _can you even do it wrong_? he scoots forward on his knees, keeping one hand on bruce’s thigh, leaning in and pausing when he’s just close enough. jerome pulls away from bruce again. “are you jealous?” he doesn’t know why he asks it again, but he shakes his head no, honestly believing that that’s the answer now. he looks at jerome, eyes roving over his twin’s face, never actually seeing what he looks like when he’s aroused. he’s only ever felt it. “you know, we still haven’t really talked-“

 

“jerome, shut the hell up.” bruce grumbles, and jeremiah could not agree more. jerome smiles, looking at jeremiah one more time before slowly reconnecting his lips to bruce’s again. this time, jeremiah doesn’t hesitate as he brushes his nose against the teen’s jaw, and pressing a soft kiss right below it. he leans his weight on the hand resting on bruce’s thigh and presses in more, kissing down his neck, his skin warm and paler than jeremiah’s. it must be because he wears turtlenecks so often. thank god he wore a plain button up today. he feels a hand overlap his on the teen’s thigh, and looks down to see it’s bruce’s, and he feels his stomach flip at being acknowledged again. his eyes get caught on their mouths again, watching how jerome does it, studying it, wanting to learn and be better at it. jerome is obviously doing _something_ right, so he can’t be a bad example to follow. jerome is stopping, _again_ , and jeremiah feels as disappointed as bruce does, but he’s guiding the teen in his direction again, so he ignores it. bruce kisses him like it’s going to save his life, and it’s overwhelming, to say the least. he feels a hand on the back of his head, gently running fingers through his hair, but he registers the fact the there’s also a hand clenched in his shirt over his heart, and bruce’s hand still overlapping his on his thigh, and he realizes the hand in his hair is _jerome’s_ , and for some reason that finally gets him to crack. he moans into bruce’s mouth lowly, adoring that the teen moans back, shifting around so that he’s completely facing him, pushing a knee between his own. it doesn’t even register what bruce is about to do, but jerome noticed way before he did, mumbling ‘ _oh, fuck_ ’ before anything even happens. so when bruce is up on his knees, straddling one of jeremiah’s legs, it comes as a shock to him when he grinds down on his thigh, the fact that he’s incredibly hard much more obvious to him now. he lets out a loud, surprised moan, pulling away to look at bruce in awe. jerome’s hand is tight in his hair to the point it almost hurts, but he doesn’t mind. he’s more focused on the way bruce is rolling his hips against his leg, and he can feel the hard line of his cock, something new and foreign to him. he thought kissing took practice but _this_ , this is something else _entirely_ that he has no preparation for in the slightest. that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop bruce. god, no, jerome will kill him if bruce doesn’t beat him to it. they are too far into this for him to back out, but he doesn’t want to.

 

he’s afraid, but for the first time, he’s ready to face his fears.

 

\---

 

_ i know what you fantasize about. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe hit yall with a cliffhanger aGAIN but i had to leave yall hanging...and start the new year with a bang. ( literally??? hmm (-; ) let me know your thoughts in the comments and all of your emotions and opinions!!! please!!! and any ideas on how the plot might thicken? cause i don't think you guys are ready for the things about to happen... (:
> 
> i hope you all had a merry christmas if you celebrated and i will see you all in 2019. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. thank you for all the continued support. i've been working on this story for SIX MONTHS. it doesn't feel real. can't wait to keep sharing with you all. until next year my loves. ❤️❤️❤️


	16. the edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ... please don’t make fun of me. i’m so nervous posting this, which sounds ridiculous but i am !! very very nervous!  
> i hope my lack of experience isn’t horribly obvious, as i’ve never written something like this before, ever. and i just wrote almost 14,000 words of it. geez. so please, everyone, take it easy on me. but do give constructive advice !!! god i’m nervous. okay. read on my loves! hope you enjoy! ❤️
> 
> warning- sexual content and phrases in this chapter

_i can take you even though i've never been there._

 

_the tide has currently been thrashing around me again and again._

 

_i've been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in._

 

\---

 

“straighten out your legs for him,” jerome says into his ear, hand still gripping his hair. “remember when you crawled into my lap that night? so very, very long ago, when you were sad and desperate for comfort? hm?” and _god_ , out of context it sounds so wrong, and so horrible, but it wasn’t _like_ _that_. bruce gasps into his mouth, probably hearing jerome, and it’s humiliating. “sit the way i did. let him on your lap.” he does as he’s told regardless, bruce helpfully sitting up and pulling back so he can move and stretch his legs out. at first, he leans back on one hand as bruce quickly straddles his thighs, and his other hand goes to the teen’s waist, petting him gently, still feeling so far behind. bruce settles in his lap and immediately rolls his hips, and jeremiah thinks he might die, the friction almost too much. the teen’s arms slide around his shoulders, his own arm already tired of holding himself up, wanting desperately to be touching bruce instead. he decides to try, straightening out his back more and putting both hands on bruce’s waist, making the teen whine and rolls his hips again, harder this time, and _yes_ , this was definitely a good idea. except his back hurts from straining to stay sitting up, but bruce is kissing him again, mouth open and tongue warm, so jeremiah can’t stop, could never dream of it. thankfully, jerome is feeling kind. the bed dips behind him, and jeremiah wants to fall back and let his body relax, but instead he feels his twin’s hands on the outer sides of his shoulders just above his biceps, leading bruce’s to move up to his hair again. the teen hasn’t stopped moving, lifting up and grinding back down, the hard line of bruce’s erection pressing against his own. he slides his hands down to bruce’s hips, pulling him down harder, and jerome whistles quietly in his ear. “and you thought you were someone who couldn’t be wanted.” jerome says mockingly, voice scratchy and low, mouth too close to his ear. he thinks maybe this is too much stimulus, too much contact happening all at once, so he pulls away from bruce’s mouth. the teen groans disappointedly, and he feels bad, but at the same time he needs to _breathe_. “go easy on ‘em, bruce. he’s not like me.” and something about it hurts his feelings a little, has one corner of his mouth twitching downwards in distaste.

 

“don’t treat me like a child,” he grits out, jerome’s hands tightening on the sides of his shoulders. “i’m not completely stupid- _ah_ -“ his words turn into a mix between a surprised cry and a moan when teeth bite at the juncture between his shoulder and neck, and he hears bruce moan, too, hips stuttering before he’s grinding down again, hard. he gasps shakily when he processes that it wasn’t bruce, but _jerome_ who bit him, and while he wants to be pissed, he can’t stop himself from leaning his head back, his twin meeting him halfway so that his chest is pressed against his back, head resting on the front of jerome’s shoulder. he must be sitting up on his knees, wanting to get a clear view of what’s happening. jeremiah can barely register what’s happening anymore. bruce inches closer in his lap, and he didn’t think it was really possible, but when he settles down again, he’s grinding his ass down instead, and they both moan in unison. he can hardly take in a breath, the feeling of his hard-on bumping against such an intimate area of _bruce fucking wayne_ leaving him practically brain dead.

 

“move,” jerome says urgently into his ear. he doesn’t understand why he’s saying it because he certainly isn’t moving _away_ from bruce- “move your hips, miah, show him you want him,” and _ah_ , that sounds more do-able, though he’s still not sure how to go about it without it being awkward. he’s almost one hundred percent sure that he’s going to mess it up, or won’t do something right and make it weird- “jesus _christ_ , miah, if you don’t fucking do something, i’m gonna take over for you. is that what you need? someone to show you how it should be done?” he feels his mouth twitch again, his jaw clenching.

 

“shut up,” jeremiah says breathily, not wanting to hear jerome be an ass because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t need it shoved in his face. “ _god_ , shut up.” when bruce grinds down again, he rolls his hips upwards to meet him, and the noise bruce lets slip is one he could never have imagined. one of the teen’s hands grips his bicep, nails digging in somewhat painfully, but he’s more focused on his face. it’s even more beautiful when it’s softened by pleasure and desperation. he can’t look away. jeremiah tightens his hands even more on bruce’s hips, waiting for him to lift up again, but he doesn’t. instead, he just rolls his hips down more, and it’s almost unbearable, the constant moving pressure on his erection. bruce moves like this is something he’s done a thousand times before, and he _hates_ that thought. jerome stays surprisingly silent, but jeremiah can still feel him, his back still leaning against his chest for support. he wordlessly lets bruce grind on him, watching as one of jerome’s hands starts to pet bruce, fingers running gently though his wavy, dark hair, and it’s strange seeing him be so gentle. bruce is looking at his twin, like he’s silently begging for something, and then jerome is tugging, yanking the teen’s head back harshly. jeremiah and bruce gasp at the same time, but he has a feeling the teen’s was more out of pleasure rather than shock like his own. it had slipped his mind that bruce had practically admitted to liking things on the rougher side. jerome’s chest pushes harder against his back as he leans forward, jeremiah’s face coming closer to bruce’s neck. he looks up a little, seeing that bruce and jerome’s faces are close, but nothing is actually happening, including any movement. he tries not to groan in annoyance, wanting _more, more, more_ , but then jerome moves in a little closer and bites bruce’s lip. he blinks, finding himself fascinated by the odd choice of action. his twin didn’t kiss him he just - he _bit_ him. he thinks maybe jerome has a thing for biting. bruce finally starts to roll his hips again, groaning at the blessed friction. jeremiah feels movement, and his twin’s mouth is back at his ear.

 

“why don’t you actually touch him? you know you’re allowed to,” jeremiah breathes out shakily and looks down at where bruce’s shirt is tucked into his slacks. he starts untucking it with one hand clumsily until bruce takes over, pulling the shirt out and starting to unbutton it. his hips don’t stop moving, and it’s incredible, seeing the fire in bruce’s eyes be set free. when he slides his shirt off of his shoulders, he stares at the pure white skin, a few little scars here and there. he wishes the actual light was on rather than just the lamp on his desk. jeremiah places his hands gently back on his waist, bruce’s skin warm and soft and he doesn’t know what’s next. he doesn’t want jerome’s snide comments, but at least they are somewhat helpful. he runs his hands up bruce’s sides gently, feeling his ribs before sliding them back down, feeling the way his whole body moves when he rolls his hips mercilessly. it’s wonderful. bruce is toned, something he expected, but in a way that almost feels delicate. it’s as if the teen could beat the shit out of him if he wanted but would be so easy to hurt in return. jeremiah doesn’t want to hurt bruce. he understands he’s much bigger than him, and needs to stay aware of that. but maybe he does want to hurt bruce. bruce wants to be hurt, he thinks. but where’s the line? how does he know?

 

bruce rolls in a way that’s particularly good, and it pulls him out of his head, leaning it back against jerome’s shoulder again, eyes closing in pleasure. bruce places both hands on his chest, running them slowly down his front, probably feeling him through the t-shirt and tank top. he’s never been more grateful for sweatpants, the loose fabric giving at least a bit of freedom. he almost feels sympathy for bruce in his slacks, but he thinks it’s partially the billionaire’s fault. he doesn’t _need_ pants that tight in the first place, does he? without much thought, he hooks a thumb into the waistband, taking note of the leather belt he has on as well, and wonders if it’s too far to take that off. jerome, however, hums lowly, and he takes it as approval and moves both hands to the belt buckle, hands shaking and heart racing. he can’t help staring at the bulge in the teen’s slacks, fingers working open the belt right above it. he swallows and pulls, the belt making a whoosh sound as it passes through the loops, tossing it to the floor. he looks at bruce, blinking slowly at the way he’s staring back so openly with so much want, a look he never thought he’d see in his life. his cheeks are a deep rose color, and he has to touch his face, has to feel it. jeremiah’s hands are still shaking, a mix of nerves and adrenaline, and when the palm of his hand makes contact, his face is hot, making him wonder if his hand feels cold in comparison. bruce looks at him like he’s going to cry, and he’s not really sure what that means, but it doesn’t matter because bruce is kissing him again, pushing down harder on his erection that desperately needs something new to happen. when bruce’s tongue slips into his mouth, he also feels someone lifting up his shirt from behind, and thinks maybe the teen is wanting to not be the only one half naked. he pulls away from bruce and lets his shirt be pulled over his head, but it isn’t the teen taking it off, though he’s looking at him gratefully anyways.

 

“of course you’re wearing a second shirt,” jerome grumbles, bruce’s hands touching his shoulders appreciatively. “you wearing three pairs of pants, too?” and he doesn’t understand how jerome’s brain is working well enough to be a dick about literally _everything_ jeremiah has done, but he wants to make him choke on his words. bruce and jerome both get his tank top off, and he’s left terribly exposed and anxious. but bruce just keeps letting his hands slowly explore, fingers catching on the scar at his collarbone and drifting down to catch on the large one under his ribs. he swallows down the fear and discomfort, not knowing why bruce has taken interest in the two scars in his line of sight. he doesn’t want him looking anymore. he pulls bruce into a kiss again, greedily taking in the moan that follows the action. but jeremiah groans in disappointment when bruce lifts off of him, not at all liking that the teen is stopping. jerome’s hands return to his shoulders, jeremiah unaware that they had even left, and it’s strange having jerome’s hands on him. but his focus quickly shifts to bruce, who has slid back and away. he feels exposed all over again. he grabs at bruce’s waist, wanting to pull him back over his obvious hard-on, but the teen runs his fingers over the front of his sweatpants, making him freeze. bruce breathes out shakily as he touches jeremiah through the layers of clothing gently, eyes glued downwards. he tries not to feel embarrassed, but finds he’s failing miserably, his face heating up even more and chest constricting. jerome’s hands slide down his arms, grip still somewhat tight, a hand drifting to pull one of jeremiah’s off of bruce’s skin and down to his thigh, hand loose around his wrist as he orchestrates his movements.

 

“just enjoy this, yeah? you’re in one of the best places in the world right now. take full advantage of that. stop hesitating, and questioning, and everything else involving your _brain_ ,” jeremiah stares at bruce, already feeling himself start to slip away, unable to break eye contact with the teen who is staring back at him just as intensely, fingers moving loosely over him still. “this is _bruce wayne_ , for god’s sake,” he squeezes his eyes closed, leaning heavily against jerome. “the person you’ve been trying to impress, the owner of the company you’ve looked up to for years, the one in charge of your future. he’s in your lap _begging_ for you,” bruce whines at jerome’s words, and his whole hand cups him, stroking him through his sweats, and jeremiah _moans_. “fuck, he’s wants you, miah. give him something. stop holding back. he doesn’t want you to hold back.” he squeezes the teen’s thigh, hips bucking by accident into his hand more. bruce must take it as consent to go for it, upper body leaning forward to mouth at his jaw, moving down his neck, and it’s something new as well, being kissed here. he supposes someone stroking his erection through a pair of sweatpants is new as well. jeremiah just squeezes and rubs bruce’s thigh, other hand petting gently down his ribs. jerome is still very present, hands touching him lightly, chest still very much keeping him upright, but he’s so quiet. jeremiah is finding that he doesn’t feel comfortable taking action unless his twin confirms it first. it doesn’t make sense, because he’s an _adult_ , and he knows bruce is consenting and interested, and yet he hesitates until jerome tells him to do it. bruce keeps stroking him with one hand, his other touching his stomach, lips still kissing his neck, but he doesn’t know what he should be doing in return. he waits for jerome, but nothing happens. he swallows.

 

“tell me what to do,” he whispers, head tilting as bruce’s mouth makes it’s way up to his jaw again. it conveniently turns his head more in jerome’s direction. “j, i-tell me,” his twin pets the back of his head, laughing a bit breathily.

 

“do what you want,” he says, but it’s not what he wants to hear, not what he’s _needing_ to hear. “just do what feels right-“ he shakes his head, bruce’s lips moving away a little. he hesitantly turns his head more, nosing at jerome’s jawline, finding it’s perfectly aligned, like it was meant to be there.

 

“i need you to tell me,” he squeezes his eyes closed, the teen pulling his head back to most likely look at him. “ _please_.” he resorts to pleading, hoping jerome understands that he needs this. his twin stops breathing for a few seconds, and so does he, wondering if asking for complete guidance is too much. but then jerome breathes out, nodding his head slowly.

 

“okay,” he finally answers. “okay.” jeremiah hears bruce exhale heavily, so he opens his eyes, head turning away from jerome slowly. he takes in the dazed expression, his lips parting as he tries to properly breathe. he somehow hadn’t even noticed that bruce’s hand stopped moving at some point and is just resting there. “unbutton his pants.” jerome says, voice sounding weird. he glances down, his right hand on bruce’s thigh feeling like the most convenient one to use despite it being his non-dominant hand. he doesn’t bother lifting it, instead he just slides it up, bruce’s hips trying to arch into the movement for friction that he doesn’t provide. it makes him feel powerful. he unbuttons them easily enough, and shakily goes for the zipper, fingers inevitably coming into contact with bruce’s erection, but he doesn’t give real pressure. “you’re a certain kind of evil, aren’t you?” jerome says quietly in disbelief. “torturing him, after everything he’s done for you.” jeremiah wonders if he should actually feel bad, should give bruce some form of release, but then jerome continues. “guess he’s just gonna have to truly beg now, isn’t he?” jeremiah stares at bruce, who stares wide-eyed at his twin behind him. his breath catches, the teen’s gaze landing on him again expectantly, but he doesn’t know what he’s expecting him to do. he swallows, starting to become embarrassed again. but jerome manages to lean in closer, lips almost touching his ear now. “tell him to beg.” he says hotly, bruce blinking rapidly, looking like he’s going to pass out. jeremiah feels the same way for a few seconds. jerome continues. “tell him to beg for you to touch him, and make him beg for you to never stop,” jeremiah almost moans at the thought, fingers gently running down bruce’s thighs, his touch barely there. it’s enough for him, the teen’s eyes slipping closed, body tensing up. “come on, he’s gotta hear it from _you_. even if it’s just the one word.” jerome whispers urgently, fingers curling tighter into his hair, and jeremiah thinks his twin sounds dangerously close to begging himself. he tilts his chin up a little, jaw clenching as he works to school his expression. bruce’s eyes are so wild, and he’s excited to see what happens next. his twin’s hold on his hair loosens but his mouth doesn’t move away from his ear. jeremiah looks at bruce blankly, his face the complete opposite of what he’s feeling, and opens his mouth.

 

“beg.” he finally says, voice quiet but firm. a soft demand that bruce seems thrilled to hear, and making even jerome huff out a breathy laugh, a shared thrill buzzing between them as well. he wasn’t expecting much of a reaction from either of them, but if he thought bruce looked desperate before, the teen looks like he wants to kill him. it sends a sharp spike of arousal through him, knowing that saying a simple word to bruce has him wrapped around his finger. the teen leans in again, kissing him hard, teeth clacking together, but he doesn’t mind. he kisses back just as desperately, but strains to keep his hands on just his thighs, wanting to touch more so badly, but he must stick to what he’s done.

 

“please,” bruce whines lowly into his mouth, hands petting his face, taking his breath away. “ _please_ , touch me,” he starts to inch back forward in jeremiah’s lap, but jerome makes a low noise.

 

“no, no, brucie,” his twin says, kind of scolding the teen. bruce freezes. “what did he tell you?” the tone of voice makes even jeremiah nervous, but bruce just stares past his face at jerome somewhat defiantly. but then he’s deflating and moving back, but jeremiah is still partially frozen. the teen’s eyes move back to him, eyes pleading, but he thinks he knows what jerome is doing. he waits for bruce to ask. the teen slides his hands down his face to the sides of his neck, their warmth making him close his eyes and crave his touch more.

 

“let me get closer,” bruce begs quietly. “i won’t move, i swear, just- _please_ -“ his voice breaks at the end, and jeremiah can’t say no, so he nods, eyes still closed, not sure he can handle how bruce looks while pleading like this. he feels him slide carefully forwards on his knees so that he’s hovering over jeremiah, and _oh_ , he has to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from grabbing bruce and pulling him down. their chests are close, the warmth coming off of bruce astounding, not knowing another person could produce so much heat. he wonders if that’s how he feels, too. bruce’s hands move down over his shoulders and straight down his chest. he inhales, his chest expanding, and bruce decides to curl his fingers a bit, just enough to lightly scratch his nails down his front. “jeremiah, please. i need,” the teen stops, jeremiah’s eyes opening curiously. “i need you to make me feel wanted. i want-i _need_ to know you want me, too. please-just-can you just touch me?” bruce looks so hurt that he has to beg for something, and jeremiah feels guilty, wants to make that go away and show him that, _yes_ , he is _very_ _much_ wanted.

 

“where?” jerome suddenly asks, making jeremiah jump a little. bruce shakes his head rapidly.

 

“anywhere,” he quickly answers, swallowing. “i don’t care, i just-“

 

“where?” jerome repeats, but this time, it’s directed more towards jeremiah, his twin’s hand leaving his hair to touch his shoulder on the opposite side instead. “not too much.” jeremiah raises his left hand slowly, still not certain what he’s doing with it. bruce’s breathing picks up even more in speed, sending a weird jolt of excitement through him at the observation. he rests his fingertips on the skin right above bruce’s hip, that part of him still hidden by his slacks. the teen leans into the touch, so jeremiah places his whole hand on his side, fingers on the back side and thumb in the front, his frame seeming so small in comparison. bruce sighs, like he’s just been relieved a great stress, so jeremiah lifts his right hand and does the same on his other side, stroking his thumbs over his warm skin.

 

“please,” bruce whispers, eyes closed, hands twitching on his chest, and jeremiah can’t do it, can’t torture them both. he pulls bruce closer, the teen’s hands moving back up to his hair as their chests press together, along with his erection pressing against his lower abdomen. the teen can’t help but roll his hips against him, giving himself friction, releasing a broken moan. jeremiah lets him, sighing, finally feeling bruce again. he almost jumps when jerome’s hand leaves his shoulder, forgetting it was there at all, and rests low on his back, his body wanting to lean into him and bruce at the same time. it’s impossible. their mouths are close, and they are practically sharing air, bruce gasping with each roll.

 

“don’t you wanna feel him again, bruce?” jerome says, hand back to petting the teen. bruce’s head leans back into it, eyes trained on his twin again. “don’t you wanna know how he actually feels? make him understand how much you want him? want his cock?” jeremiah exhales shakily, not ready for the words at all, but bruce just nods silently, hips stuttering. he can’t take his eyes off of his face, how excited his eyes have become at jerome’s questions. jeremiah swallows and licks his lips, waiting for whatever comes next. jerome’s thumb moves to catch on bruce’s bottom lip, and then his hand grips his chin. “then _beg_.” jerome says quietly, tilting the teen’s head to look at jeremiah, his eyes wild again, and _fuck_ , he’s not sure he can handle this. he’s not sure he can hear those words come out of bruce’s mouth. they are already so strange and breathtaking coming from jerome, and granted, he already says weird shit, but this, in this context, is so different. and to hear it from bruce? oh, bruce is too pretty for such words. he shakes his head at the billionaire, and he stares back confused, and with a hint of offense.

 

“i can’t-i can’t hear that,” he breathes out. “i can’t listen to him say that, or-or _ask_ for that-not-not yet-“ jerome lets go of bruce’s face, sitting up a bit more behind him.

 

“then he can ask for something else, yeah?” bruce looks back and forth between them, uncertain, but nods anyways. “he could ask me instead, for me to touch him. your pace, miah. all yours.” and jeremiah realizes that maybe he’s freaking out because it’s going too fast, and he’s not sure he’s ready for bruce to see him, to be so exposed and open. it feels like it’s too much. is he ready to touch bruce like that? to see him and hear him and feel him and watch his face as he-

 

 _yes_.

 

“you can touch him, too,” jerome continues to say. “both of us at once. the kid might have a heart attack.” but judging by the way bruce hums, he’s not against it and is probably willing to risk it. “i think he wants that. what do you think? you wanna double team him instead of us against you?” jeremiah hadn’t really thought about it that way, but he _is_ in the middle and getting touched the most. he nods, making his final decision. his twin presses a kiss against his cheek, his heart beating in his ears at the action. “here, get off of him. we’re gonna move around.” bruce reluctantly unstraddles jeremiah, and he feels a lot colder without him there. jerome moves away from him, too, moving all the way to rest against the headboard, and he starts to question his decision to not be in the middle. he misses being touched already.

 

who would’ve thought jeremiah valeska would be so disturbed by people no longer touching him? oh, how times have changed.

 

he sits crisscrossed again, like he was when all of this started, and jerome moves to sit across from him. they both look at bruce at the same time, the teen’s pants still open and his pale chest exposed.

 

“you’re in the middle now, brucie,” jerome drawls, and jeremiah enjoys the way bruce seems torn about where he should go. “you wanna look at my pretty face or his? granted, we look the same, but still.” jeremiah shakes his head at his twin, because it’s a stupid thing to say. bruce scoots his way closer to the middle on his knees, but stops, not knowing how he’s supposed to even sit. jerome tilts his head at him expectantly, so the teen turns away from him and looks at jeremiah with a questioning look in his eyes. his heart races nervously, but he swallows and nods, giving bruce the okay to face him. “good choice. get in the middle, i’ve got it figured out,” he smiles at jeremiah, making him question what exactly this is going to be. the teen sits cross legged in the small space between them, looking at jeremiah nervously. “straighten your legs out this time, brucie,” bruce does so, ankles on either side of jeremiah’s own legs. then jerome is scooting up behind the teen, legs lining up on either side of bruce’s, arms snaking around his middle. the teen’s eyes slip closed, leaning back into jerome the way jeremiah did a few moments ago. he feels like an outsider. jerome looks at him, and he tries not to squirm under his stare. “on your knees, between his legs.” he isn’t sure there’s much room, and it isn’t going to work-“straddle a leg, miah. it’ll work.” jerome’s left leg shifts out, so jeremiah straddles bruce’s left thigh, feeling awkward and out of place, like things have been thrown around and he’s left out of balance. but bruce slides his hands up his chest again, and leans forward to kiss him gently, and he feels himself relax a little. his right knee is nestled in-between jerome and bruce’s thighs while his left knee is centimeters away from bruce’s erection. he’s still somewhat hovering over his thigh, not sure if he should put his weight on him. he feels like he’ll be too heavy. bruce just looks and feels so _small_. the teen pulls away from the kiss slowly, and jerome starts kissing his neck, making jeremiah feel out of place again. he doesn’t know what he should be doing. he watches his twin’s hands slide down bruce’s sides and hook into his waistband. but jeremiah can’t help but feel jerome is way overdressed in comparison. he feels a wave of confidence when he conjures the idea to actually do something on his own, and leans forward, hands pushing under jerome’s and grabbing at the buttons of his shirt blindly. he kisses bruce, since he was already so close, and feels the thigh under him shift up just enough to rub against him, making him moan. the teen grabs at his waist and attempts to pull him down, signalling he’s okay with jeremiah putting more weight on him. he pulls at the bottom buttons behind bruce, and thankfully his twin shifts back to start unbuttoning it quickly. “oh, so we can get fucking started now?” jerome practically growls, so jeremiah pulls away and looks at him.

 

“‘your pace, miah.’” he says mockingly, his twin looking at him with a curled lip.

 

“yeah, yeah, but i need to do _something_ ,” bruce just kind of laughs between them, looking delirious.

 

“then _do_ something,” bruce says in response, to which jerome responds by quickly getting back into kissing his neck again, hands roaming back down to his pants. “god, please.” bruce breathes out. before, jeremiah hated the thought of bruce wanting jerome, but now, he wants to hear more, see more, of anything from bruce. bruce is just incredible. jeremiah lets himself relax onto bruce’s thigh, sighing at some form of pressure returning to his erection. he hasn’t put his hands anywhere, but jerome is on it before he is, pulling them to hook into bruce’s waistband again.

 

“come on, let’s slide these down, yeah?” bruce nods vigorously to jerome’s question, shocking jeremiah a little. his twin looks at him and starts tugging from the sides. he supposes he should be helping. he lifts up a little and so does bruce, and jerome pulls them down enough for jeremiah to tug them down bruce’s thighs, before his twin gives another request. “how ‘bout just no pants?” jeremiah looks at the teen, who is just resting against jerome now with closed eyes. he swallows and just pulls them off, moving down and back to get them off of his feet and onto the floor. he makes his way back up, eyes falling on the front of bruce’s black boxer briefs, painfully curious and afraid. jerome hums, mouth moving up to bruce’s ear. jeremiah prepares himself for whatever words are about to spill out this time. “so pretty, bruce,” he starts off tamely, but not untruly. “you like having no control, don’t you? submitting completely to people who are so much more powerful than you where it counts.” bruce’s hand grips jeremiah’s right thigh. “you like knowing that for once you don’t have to be the boss, or make the decisions, or do _anything_. you can just sit here and look pretty for us.” jeremiah watches as his twin’s left hand slips down and touches just to the side of bruce’s erection straining against his briefs, and oh, the way bruce whines and tries to roll forward into it is _breathtaking_. “all for us.” jerome rumbles out, voice dark and so final, like he owns bruce. like _they_ own bruce. the teen’s head falls back onto jerome’s shoulder, apparently liking that thought. his neck is so exposed, and jerome looks like he’s going to go for it, but jeremiah wants to be helpful, too. he leans forward, his own hand gently covering the one bruce has on his thigh, and kisses his cheek, moving down to his jawline next, and then just below it. the teen hums in response, and jeremiah doesn’t even flinch when jerome runs his fingers through his hair, slipping down to the back of his neck, and back up again. “bite him,” his twin suggests, but he isn’t sure what exactly is supposed to be done. “lemme show ya,” he swallows his pride and leans back, letting jerome take his place. “just suck the skin and let it glide out from between your teeth,” he attempts to explain with words, and then proceeds to kiss bruce’s neck. jeremiah can’t really see much of what’s going on due to the angle, but he can envision it a little. bruce gasps, body arching, and he notices the way jerome is now smiling against his neck, tongue flicking out to lick the red spot. “the harder you bite, the darker the mark,” jerome looks at him expectantly. “your turn. give it a try.” he swallows, not feeling like he should.

 

“you’ll just make fun of me if i do it wrong,” he says quietly, hating how stupid he sounds. bruce probably thinks he’s a complete idiot. jerome smiles.

 

“this is a make-fun-of free zone right now, ‘kay?” jerome says. “i want you to learn, miah, that’s all.” bruce’s eyes open to look at him.

 

“i want you to learn, too. i will be whatever you want me to be,” bruce says quietly, hand turning over under his to hold his gently. it makes his breath catch. “do what you want, try new things, i don’t care, just _please_ , do _something_.” bruce breathily begs, hand tightening around his, and jerome’s hand guides his head back to the teen’s pale neck, eyes catching on the mark already made. it’s a darker red than before, and he’s curious to see how dark it gets. he kisses next to it, breathing out through his nose nervously.

 

“you got it,” jerome says so softly, reassuring him about what he’s doing. he’ll be fine. he parts his lips and sucks, pulling the skin up with his teeth and biting down, feeling bruce’s hand grip his shoulder in response. jeremiah does as jerome said and lets the skin glide out between his closed teeth, and it’s a weird feeling, but bruce moans, so it must feel good to him. he pulls away, looking at the pink spot he’s left behind next to jerome’s dark red one, feeling a mixture of pride and something else. “see? not so hard if you just go for it. you have nothing to worry about, i promise,” jerome says, tone still soft and reassuring. “let go, miah.” jerome cups his cheek, so he raises his eyes to meet his twin’s, heart pounding so loud it’s all he can hear anymore. jerome’s gaze is soft, too, with lust still clouding over his eyes, and they are less bloodshot than before. jeremiah swallows, feeling his stomach do something funny as he gets a bit lost under his twin’s gaze. he blinks out of it when bruce turns his head, and for some reason he feels embarrassed, like he’s been caught doing something wrong, when he _hasn_ ’ _t_ , _nothing_ is happening, it isn’t _anything_ -“miah,” his eyes refocus on jerome’s, his thumb stroking his cheek. “let go.” he glances at bruce, who’s eyes are glazed over as he looks back and forth between them. jerome smiles at him, and jeremiah feels like he’s close to completely slipping away and letting go, but something just won’t let him. “touch him, really touch him, and take in everything with me. let’s make him wanna do this again, and again, and again,” and oh, the thought of doing this again makes his stomach flip. “he wants whatever you’re willing to give. and the best part is that you aren’t doing it alone. i’m right here, doing the same shit as you. nothing to be ashamed of, nothing you aren’t allowed to try if you want.” bruce nods in agreement, hand squeezing jeremiah’s again. “and if there’s something you want, but still too afraid of, ask me. okay?” jeremiah nods, eyes stuck on bruce’s face now, the teen’s breathing still heavy and pupils blown with lust. he wants to do this. “same for you, bruce. if there’s something you want, ask us.” bruce nods again, and jeremiah can’t take it. he leans forward a bit suddenly and kisses him again, because he can, he can kiss bruce wayne and it’s _okay_. bruce kisses back enthusiastically, pulling him closer by the back of his neck.

 

jerome watches in awe as jeremiah and bruce kiss. it’s so passionate, and jerome regrets his choice of spot. he can touch and feel everything, but what he can actually see is limited. he growls in frustration, before coming to a decision. “sorry, change of fucking plans again,” he shifts, signaling he needs to move. he tucks his legs up and slides out from behind bruce, moving to face bruce on his left, and jeremiah on the right. “scoot up to the headboard,” he demands, needing to be able to see every part of bruce as they go, and everything jeremiah does. _to be helpful_ , he tells himself. _to help him learn_. when bruce is scooted back, jerome instantly scoots up to be right next to him, right hand laying flat across the kid’s stomach. “fuck, i need to touch you,” he breathes out. “can i do that?” he asks, and bruce whines lowly in response. jerome smirks and lowers his hand slowly, bruce’s stomach shifting as he breathes heavily. he finally, _finally_ , cups bruce, the kid moaning loudly and hips bucking up into it. he’s gripping jerome’s bicep hard, and he hears jeremiah gasp next to him. he hates that he’s probably gonna have to touch bruce with his right hand due to the angle, but he can make it work. probably. he glances over, seeing bruce’s other hand is still gripping jeremiah’s, and it makes him feel a little surge of happiness, knowing how much his twin loves holding hands and is probably living for the contact. jerome decides to just go for it at this point, and pulls at his waistband, hand slipping inside. his briefs are so tight that there isn’t room to even tease, so he just wraps his fingers around bruce’s cock and strokes up, hand feeling too dry for this. he pulls it back out, and bruce does _not_ like that action, fingernails digging in to the muscle of his arm. he thinks about licking his hand himself, and then thinks of jeremiah, but he doesn’t think his twin would do it, so he holds his hand up in front of bruce’s face. bruce holds his wrist and licks up his entire palm, a wave of arousal shooting through him at the thought of his tongue being on his dick instead. _later_ , he thinks. _or another time_ , he corrects. he wraps his hand back around the teen, feeling it glide easier, and curses under his breath at finally being able to do this. jeremiah is silent and still as a statue next to him, and he feels bad, but all he has to do is whatever he wants. he thinks back to the way jeremiah had practically begged for him to take control, his hand squeezing harder around bruce. his hips buck again, and he’s _got_ to get these briefs out of his way, has to see everything and actually remember everything this time. “take them off?” he questions, not really sure who he’s asking. bruce nods, but makes no move to actually do it himself. he looks at jeremiah, who’s eyes are hazily glued to jerome’s hand working bruce, lips parted and breathing erratic. “go ahead,” he says quietly, his twin’s eyes lifting to meet his, seeming shocked to have the request directed towards him. he doesn’t say a word, just simply unstraddles bruce’s leg and reaches up to pull at his underwear. bruce lifts his hips, and jeremiah tugs them gently down, eyes blinking rapidly. jerome smiles, and almost throws his head back in laughter from the overwhelming excitement of what’s happening. he takes in the sight of bruce, his thin but long cock suiting him perfectly, and _jesus_ , everything about him is just so pretty. he starts stroking him again, soaking in the noises coming from bruce’s mouth, never wanting them to stop. he notices jeremiah continuing to take off the briefs, his hand sliding up bruce’s thigh so delicately. jerome is just waiting for that last string in jeremiah to snap. he can tell his twin is close to slipping away, but something is still missing. maybe he hasn’t been pushed enough. he switches to his left hand despite the angle, licking it himself. “isn’t he pretty?” he asks lowly, eyes roving over every inch of bruce. he glances at jeremiah, waiting for a response.

 

“yes,” his twin breathes out, green eyes drowned with black, and absolute lust, and oh, jerome wants him to snap so, _so_ bad. bruce is staring right at jeremiah, eyes begging for him, being so exposed and not caring in the least making him even prettier to jerome.

 

“why don’t you tell him that?” jerome suggests, hand still stroking over bruce tantalizingly slow. “show him how much you enjoy seeing him like this. whether it’s words or action, i don’t think he has much preference at this point,” jeremiah lifts the hand off bruce’s thigh to cup his cheek, and then it slides back into the kid’s hair, pausing. he can see the way his eyes are glazed over, and then he’s gripping bruce’s hair, and when he pulls, the kid moves with it, mouth falling open and hips thrusting up, throwing jerome’s rhythm off in the best way. jerome feels so proud because he didn’t need to tell him what exactly to do, he just fucking paid attention. his own cock throbs, desperate for some attention, so he palms himself with his right hand, hissing at the relief. he’s still wearing those stupidly tight pants and the nice button up and tie, but he takes off his belt one handed, wanting to at least release some of the uncomfortable pressure. bruce’s eyes open to watch him, hand grasping at his arm again. jerome unbuttons and unzips his pants as well, sighing audibly at being closer to freedom, when bruce’s hand suddenly slips into the open space and cups him through his boxer briefs. “fuck,” he says lowly, left hand slipping away from bruce as his body relaxes into the touch, his temple resting against the headboard now, breathing into bruce’s hair. “jeremiah, darling, could you- _fuck_ -uh, would you mind?” his twin’s eyes meet his, distant and hazy. “being left handed sucks right now,” he attempts to joke, but bruce’s hand is about to slip into his underwear now, and he’s so fucking ready. jeremiah is watching everything, probably never feeling this much before, and he is probably overwhelmed still. he straddles bruce’s thigh again, but seems to still hesitate on any touching that isn’t the hair or face. the kid’s hand wraps around him, a moan escaping him before he can hold it back. bruce lets out an appreciative sound, making him smile smugly. jerome reaches with his right and gestures for jeremiah to give him his left hand, which he does without hesitation. why does he hesitate with bruce? he shouldn’t. there’s no reason to. he holds it for a few seconds, hoping that it comes off as reassuring, and guides it down slowly, not wanting to freak him out. but jeremiah doesn’t protest, and it catches bruce off guard when jerome wraps his hand around him again, jeremiah following his lead and curling his fingers around the base of bruce’s cock, his twin’s eyes obviously analyzing every detail he can. jerome removes his hand, head hitting against the headboard again when bruce squeezes harder around him. he watches jeremiah begin to stroke bruce, the kid’s eyes lighting up as his attention turns to his twin instead, looking as if he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. jerome almost can’t either. almost.

 

“just do what you do to yourself,” jerome manages to say, mouth starting to drift down to bruce’s bare shoulder. “i know you don’t do it often, but you’ll be okay,” he bites down, holding back from digging in too much. he closes his eyes and just enjoys the way bruce touches him, and the sounds he’s making as his twin touches him, and _wow_ , jeremiah is getting nothing in return. he isn’t sure jeremiah wants anything, or is ready for it. when bruce tried, he freaked out and closed off. he wants desperately to get his erection out of his pants, but doesn’t know where the line is for jeremiah. would he be uncomfortable with that? would he back out? he isn’t sure. jerome reopens his eyes when bruce makes a particularly good sound, and sees the way jeremiah twists his hand on the upstroke, fingers visibly squeezing as he gets higher, pulling some beautiful noises from the kid. it takes him a minute to remember what he told jeremiah, to do what he does to himself, and the thought of _this_ being what he does, this being what gets him off, is undeniably hot. what’s the point in denying it? jeremiah is blushing, and bruce is too, the pink taking over the kid’s chest. he wants to take his own shirt off, since it’s just loosely hanging off of his shoulders anyways. he slips it off, and starts to loosen the tie, but bruce’s eyes get caught on it, shaking his head before letting his eyes fall closed. jerome quirks his eyebrow. “ _oh_ ,” he says knowingly. “ _oh_ , how _terrible_ it must be for you,” he says, a mixture of amusement and sympathy. bruce looks at him with hint of frustration. “i thought _maybe_ , but you really do have a thing for ties. fucking _ties_ , bruce?” the kid stops moving his hand, as if to punish him, and it almost works. “fuck, this asshole wears one every single day-oh-ho-ho, you poor _fucker_ ,” he can’t help but laugh out, because he can’t even imagine. “what is it, huh? what gets you off about someone wearing a tie?” he asks, genuinely not understanding. bruce’s hand leaves him completely, and he notices that jeremiah is still moving his hand, staring wide-eyed at bruce, but in a way that looks excitedly confused. “what, do you just like the way it looks?” bruce’s breath catches, and jeremiah’s eyes shift over to him, or rather the tie still around his neck.

 

“he pulled on it,” jeremiah suddenly says. “earlier, when i-when i ambushed him in the building room, he kept pulling on it, pulling me closer with it,” jerome’s mouth forms an ‘o’, understanding now.

 

“so it’s like my thing for pulling your hair,” he says, hand roving up to bruce’s hair. the kid looks so utterly embarrassed but he is also still enjoying jeremiah’s hand moving rhythmically on his cock.

 

“you bite,” jeremiah says, still watching jerome. he tilts his head at his twin, waiting for more. “which you used to do to me as an attack mechanism when we were children,” jerome smiles darkly, licking along his front teeth and leaning down to bruce’s shoulder again. “you also haven’t kissed bruce once since this started, meaning you probably genuinely don’t like it that much,” and how did jeremiah manage to catalogue all of this shit? “bruce enjoys it, though, which is a bonus point for me,” and oh, he realizes, he’s comparing what everyone likes. he’s been observing, analyzing, taking notes, and fuck, bruce is _screwed_ when they get to be alone, because jeremiah is gonna use everything he likes on him at once and break him. he’s trying to figure it all out first. “he also likes the way i’m touching him now, which works for me. he likes his hair pulled, a lot, and i don’t think he minds being bit,” jerome bites down in the same spot he did earlier, making the kid cry out and buck his hips. “okay, he likes biting.” jeremiah pauses.

 

“do you like biting? cause if not, that’s a bonus point for me,” he says a bit mockingly. bruce whines, and jerome uses his right hand to grip the kid’s chin. he’s not even sure bruce is listening, looking so lost in his own pleasure. “he’s definitely submissive, and would be a fantastic bottom, one hundred percent,” bruce grips his thigh, making him feel like he’s on fire with the sudden want to fuck bruce into the mattress, and jeremiah must feel that rush. his twin exhales shakily, looking at jerome stunned, before looking at bruce like-oh.

 

jeremiah feels the same way.

 

he doesn’t know why actually knowing that jeremiah wants to fuck bruce surprises him. he bluntly brings it up all the time, and never really thought into it much. but seeing jeremiah’s eyes rake over bruce’s body like he’s suddenly starving is surprising nonetheless. jerome supposes he probably _is_ starving, because he’s never done this before, at all. he focuses back on bruce, who is clueless to his surroundings at this point, and places his hand on his inner thigh. his legs open a little instinctively, and it’s going to be so hard to not push things this time. _not_ _this_ _time_. “what did i do to make you cum that night bruce?” he asks roughly, the kid’s eyes barely opening to glare at him. “i wanna try it again.” jeremiah hasn’t stopped moving his hand, and bruce looks so close to the edge. he wants to shove him over. bruce licks his lips, breathing loudly.

 

“you just-i don’t know, there wasn’t anything-“ bruce halts, face giving away that he has remembered there was something. jerome’s eyes light up. he grabs jeremiah’s wrist, the movement stopping, bruce groaning in frustration. he makes his twin remove his hand completely, replacing it with his own, tugging his hand up the length roughly, grip tight. bruce thumps his head back against the headboard.

 

“do tell, brucie,” he says teasingly. “maybe you can get miah to do it for ya this time, hm?” jerome bites his lip, dying to know what he did, what pushed bruce the first time. “pull his hair a little, and just kinda feel your way around, see if he will give you a hint since he won’t say it.” he says to jeremiah, who silently lifts a hand and tangles it in bruce’s dark curls. the kid’s hips are moving in time with his hand, precum leaking out, and he so, so painfully close. _what’s_ _it_ _gonna_ _take_? he watches jeremiah’s hand slide down to his cheek, and then to grip his chin the way jerome does often, and his thumb pulls at his bottom lip like he does as well, but jeremiah pushes into his mouth. bruce’s eyes fall shut as he takes in jeremiah’s thumb, his twin’s eyes clouding over again. but it isn’t what pushed him. “not there yet,” he says helpfully, twisting his hand on the upstroke like jeremiah was doing. he palms himself, needing to relieve some pressure again. something pops into his mind. “although i wanna try something on top of whatever the fuck he’s hiding, so be ready when you find it,” he mumbles to his twin, who just nods a little, hand cupping bruce’s jaw. it slides down the side of the kid’s neck, thumb stroking under his jawline, and bruce turns his head in that direction, jeremiah’s thumb across his throat, and his hand shifts a little more-

 

 _fuck_ , the kid has a _choking_ _kink_.

 

jeremiah realizes it at the same time, bruce’s breath hitching as he waits for a reaction. his twin is frozen, and that’s understandable, choking is a big deal, and jeremiah is not into the big deal kind of things just yet. jerome also realizes that he fucking _choked_ bruce to get him to cum that night, and wow, he has never regretted being drunk off of his ass more. he groans and palms himself harder. “fuck, kid, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he laughs breathily. “so are we.” he stops touching himself to instead gently pet the back of jeremiah’s head, who leans into it with closed eyes. bruce observes with fascination, like he always does when they interact. it’s half of the reason for what he’s doing. for what’s he’s going to do. jerome leans closer to his twin, pulling him to meet him halfway, lips next to his ear again. _please_ _don’t_ _freak_ _out_ , he pleads in his head, attempting to send a wave of reassurance between them. jeremiah takes a deep breath. he thinks he felt it. _trust_ _me_. “squeeze, just a little,” he says lowly, his twin swallowing. bruce tilts his head up a little, preparing for blessed pressure. jerome squeezes his cock a little harder, and watches in fascination as jeremiah’s thumb pushes down and his fingers curls around his neck a little tighter. bruce lets out a breath, meaning jeremiah isn’t pressing that hard yet. he glances down, seeing that his twin is hovering over bruce’s thigh again, not giving himself any kind of friction despite the opportunity. “a little harder. and miah, baby, please touch yourself, before you fucking _die_ ,” and he knows he’s risking it calling him something like ‘baby’, but fuck if he cares. the wave of arousal he feels in response is enough for him, jeremiah’s hand tightening around bruce’s throat, a strained, high-pitched whine managing to get out. jerome curses under his breath at the noise, pulling his hand away to lick it again, and he starts to, but he hears jeremiah breathe out ‘ _wait_ ’ so he stops, looking at him questioningly. his twin is staring at his hand, and then he removes his hand from bruce’s throat and grabs his wrist gently.

 

“can i try?” he whispers pointlessly, jerome already nodding silently. bruce’s eyes are open and watching again, sad that jeremiah and jerome both stopped, but his brain must catch up. jeremiah tugs his hand closer, his palm straightening out for him. his twin hesitates. why does he hesitate?

 

“c’mon, babe,” he whispers back, jeremiah’s eyes meet his, the surprise evident by his expression. jerome doesn’t care. his twin looks back at his hand, and leans forward, running his tongue wetly up his palm. jerome’s breath catches when jeremiah’s eyes meet his, something sparking between them. he feels his face heat up, feel the blood rush up to his head and quickly back down to his cock. he presses his hand hard against himself, jeremiah’s eyes catching on it as he pulls away, shock still written all over his face, but what did he expect from doing something like that? bruce moans when jerome wraps his fingers around his cock again, feeling it pulse in his hand. the kid is going to cum any minute now. he’s gotta make it good. he’s gotta take the small risk. “start choking him again. gonna make him cum, okay?” bruce lets out a sound that almost resembles a sob, and _jesus_ , the things he wants to do to bruce. _another_ _time_ , he reminds himself again. “and what else did i tell you, miah?” jeremiah raises his left hand to bruce’s throat, but doesn’t press yet, freezing at jerome’s tone. he sees the moment it clicks, and his twin shakily presses his right hand against the front of his sweatpants, eyes closing. jerome reaches to pet his hair. “good.” he whispers, still excited about how much they’ve managed to get through. he never thought jeremiah would get this far, thought that he would have to back out and ease in slower another time. he was wrong. very wrong, he corrects, as jeremiah’s hand squeezes again, bruce looking at jeremiah pleadingly. while bruce is watching, it’s now or not at all, he thinks. jerome moves and presses a kiss to jeremiah’s bare shoulder, not doing too much yet, wanting to test the waters and see how far jeremiah will let him go. _for_ _bruce_ _to_ _watch_ , he thinks to himself. _for_ _bruce_. he uses the hand in his twin’s hair to tilt his head closer, kissing his cheek, nosing against his cheekbone. jeremiah gasps, and he continues stroking bruce roughly, waiting for any signs to stop. he doesn’t get any. he kisses his cheek again, and then goes lower, and lower, and then kisses his jaw, thrilled that jeremiah’s head tilts a little. he glances at bruce, who’s watching him greedily, whining when their eyes meet. “harder, miah,” he commands. “we’re gonna make him cum. how exciting, right? bruce wayne, on your bed, about to fucking cum with my hand on his cock and your hand around his throat,” jeremiah moans, hand squeezing harder and palm pressing harder. “bet you wish you could use your right hand to choke him out so you could properly touch yourself. but don’t worry,” he kisses his jaw again. “you’ll never be able to cum to another image except for this one right here,” he twists his hand, squeezing around the head of bruce’s cock, pulling a choked moan out of him. “fuck, neither will i,” he moves back in, kissing under jeremiah’s jaw and making his way down his neck, pausing over one spot.

 

he glances again at bruce, who is still managing to watch, hips bucking. he licks the spot, jeremiah’s breath catching, and latches on, biting into his twin, all of them moaning loudly in response. jerome is buzzing in excitement and arousal when he pulls back, stroking a thumb over the pink spot he’s left, excited to see the mark it becomes later. he kisses his cheek again and leans his forehead against his twin’s temple, turning his head enough to look at bruce. his eyes are distant, mouth opening to let out a sob again. “c’mon, bruce,” he says. “wanna see you break, darling,” bruce grabs jeremiah’s wrist and presses, cutting off more air, his eyes falling closed for a second. he can’t have that. “no, no. look at us, bruce,” he demands, hand slowing down until he does so. bruce manages to open his eyes again, cheeks a dark red now, and with his attention back on them, he kisses a little closer to jeremiah’s nose this time, and moves down right next to his mouth. he hears bruce attempt to curse, so he knows it’s having the desired affect. jeremiah’s breathing is erratic, so he doesn’t push, doesn’t want to freak him out. “tell him to cum,” he says quietly, pulling back to lock eyes with him. his twin blinks rapidly, shifting his attention to bruce, mouth opening, but nothing coming out. he can practically see the sparks fly out of his head as he short circuits. “make bruce wayne cum, miah,” he says instead, bruce bucking more, letting out a strangled noise of urgency, and _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_ , it’s about damn time. jeremiah is palming himself more purposefully now, and bruce reaches a hand forward to show he wants to touch jeremiah. jerome moans lowly, mouthing at his twin’s jaw again, focusing on the feel of bruce’s cock in his hand, and the feel of jeremiah’s arousal mixed with his own, a rare feeling in general, but this time it’s stronger and more prominent than ever before. bruce touches his jaw gently, so he turns his head back to look at him, forehead still resting against jeremiah’s temple. bruce looks desperate as his fingers scratch down his chest, like he’s about to shatter, and jerome is thrilled to be the cause of it. he slides his hand from jeremiah’s hair to grip his chin instead, but not roughly, not sure that’s what he wants. “fuck, miah, look at him,” jerome mumbles, his twin moaning loudly, not trying to hold it in anymore. he _loves_ it. _stop_ _holding_ _back_. “harder.” he grits out, watching in joy as jeremiah’s hand tightens impossibly more around bruce’s throat. the kid’s eyes slip closed, mouth falling open, and he’s right there, he _is_ -

 

“god, bruce,” jeremiah breathes out, and it does it, the kid gripping jerome’s bicep, nails biting into his skin, and it’s _lovely_. he keeps stroking bruce through it, smiling excitedly as he feels cum drip down his hand, but he’s unable to look away from the way bruce’s face is twisted up, like he’s going to cry, upper body arching as he tries to make a sound. but jeremiah’s hand is still tight, _so_ tight, so he kisses his twin’s cheek and whispers ‘ _let_ _go’_. he does instantly, hand moving back and away like he’s been burned. bruce immediately lets out a broken sob, head falling forward as he gasps in air. jerome slows his hand, and squeezes one more time, drawing out a marvelous whimper. he glances down, taking in the beautiful sight, when jeremiah moans again. he glances in that direction, seeing bruce is back to touching his twin roughly. jerome suddenly has a new goal: get jeremiah to cum. get _bruce_ to get jeremiah to cum, he thinks instead. yeah, _that’s_ what this is, he sarcastically thinks to himself. how ‘bout you shut the fuck up and _do_ _something_?

 

jeremiah’s hands scrabble a bit, wanting to grab something but not knowing what exactly to grab. bruce’s hand feels good, so good, and he just watched him cum in jerome’s hand, and he was choking him the whole time, and he’s not going to last much longer-

 

and jerome adding on to it by petting his hair, saying things to him that strike something deep inside him, makes him want to do horrible things to bruce that he’s never imagined doing. kissing his cheek and jaw and biting him, marking him, and- “bruce, please-i-“ he cuts himself off, moaning again instead, and he’s almost embarrassed, but his lust is clouding every other emotion. he’s never felt it this strongly before. he doesn’t mind. jerome is kissing him again, lips pressing below his ear.

 

“can he touch you, miah?” he asks lowly. jeremiah doesn’t even hesitate to nod this time, wanting desperately to be touched, to chase this feeling further. he can feel jerome’s smile against his skin. he shivers. “i’d do more but i got his cum all over my other hand, so i’m a bit limited on what i can touch,” he’s not sure who jerome is even talking to, but he leans into him, feeling his brain shut off more. bruce scoots closer, the position now similar to how things started, but flipped, making jeremiah want to laugh. bruce slips his hand into his sweatpants, and jeremiah sighs shakily, feeling his boxers being pushed out of the way as well. jerome curses in his ear as bruce finally curls his fingers around his aching member, head butting against jerome’s, but he doesn’t care. it feels good to be touched, better than he thought. he always assumed someone else wouldn’t be able to do it right, only he would ever understand himself, but bruce knows now what he does, knows how he likes it and uses that information. his hand twists and it’s tight and-

 

“fuck, i’m-“ he can’t form words, but he thinks bruce understands judging by the way he hums, his hand speeding up. jerome pulls his hair a little, his eyes slipping closed as he feels it build, feels himself reach the edge, so close to tumbling over it. he feels a mouth attach to the other side of his neck, meaning it’s bruce, and feels teeth sink in, and jerome is pulling his hair harder, fingers tight as bruce keeps moving, twisting, squeezing-

 

jerome’s hand grips his chin again - and he _knows_ it’s jerome’s, can tell, because it’s what he does - and turns his head more in his direction, and can feel jerome’s breath against his mouth-“come on, baby, cum for bruce wayne,” his twin whispers urgently, and bruce whimpers, and that does it. he’s hurtling over the edge, forehead ramming a bit harshly against jerome’s but his twin holds him there, jeremiah gripping his bicep with one hand and grasping at bruce’s wrist with the other, the teen’s hand stilling but remaining firm, and he’s overwhelmed by the rush of his orgasm. then it’s over, his body slumping, but his hands are still holding on, processing what just happened. “holy fuck, i felt all of that,” he feels jerome’s words more than he hears them, breath warm and almost shaking. “thought it was me for a second,” jeremiah feels like he can’t breathe, heart pounding loudly and hard enough he can feel it in his head. bruce slowly removes his hand, leaving him a bit cold. jerome curses again, fingers tapping jeremiah’s cheek. he opens his eyes, and sees jerome watching bruce, so he turns his attention to the teen as well, and _jesus_ _christ_ -

 

bruce licks the cum off of his fingers, and jeremiah is one hundred percent certain that he could cum a second time just watching him do this over and over again. bruce’s face is flushed as he stares at jerome, eyes curious, like he’s never tasted it before, and maybe he hasn’t, maybe jeremiah’s is the first and _fuck_ , he feels a surge of possessiveness roar through him, jerome’s fingers tightening on his face at the feeling.

 

“jesus, kid, you’re gonna kill someone one day,” jerome says, sounding exhausted. “sorry, miah, i’ll wash your blankets later,” he looks down confused to see jerome wiping his hand off on his blanket, and of course he would do that, the asshole. suddenly, bruce stiffens.

 

“what time is it?” he asks hastily, grabbing for his underwear behind jeremiah. jerome moves away from jeremiah and bends over the side of the bed, picking his phone up off the floor.

 

“uhhh, twelve forty-two,” bruce curses and stands up, slipping his clothes back on quickly, and very well, which means this is something he’s done before. jeremiah’s eyebrows scrunch together. “why, got somewhere to be?”

 

“i told alfred i’d be home by twelve-thirty,” he says, belt slipping back through the loops. “trust me, he _will_ hunt me down.” jeremiah is still trying to catch up, but he does have enough sense to throw out there what they probably haven’t thought yet.

 

“jerome will have to take you back home,” jerome makes a noise of pain, falling backwards onto the bed. jeremiah’s mouth quirks.

 

“you could have let me drive myself, and just asked me to come over instead of kidnapping me,” bruce says, straightening out his sleeve cuffs. he looks as if it never happened. maybe it didn’t happen, and he’s higher than he thought he was and this is all a hallucination.

 

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” jerome dismisses bruce. “let’s get this show on the road, then,” and jeremiah grabs at his t-shirt, feeling horribly cold. he manages to scoot to the edge of the bed, a bit uncomfortable in his sweatpants now, and slides his shirt on, feeling incredibly strange. “i have to say,” he turns his head to watch jerome button his pants back up, a bulge still prominent, and wait-“that was the longest, most drawn out way of giving each other hand-jobs that i’ve ever experienced.” jeremiah lets out a long suffering sigh, running a hand over his eyes. bruce chuckles.

 

“but well worth it?” bruce says it like a question, and jerome hums back just as questioningly. jeremiah blinks when he realizes he’s still staring at an inappropriate place of jerome and whips his head away, face heating up. “i have a meeting at one-fifteen, so we should get going.” he hears them both move around, jerome opening jeremiah’s closet and presumably stealing back a t-shirt. he feels like he’s just floating in their space, not really a part of what’s going on. jeremiah isn’t even sure what he should be doing. everything is just over.  


 

“i will be back in, like, fifteen minutes,” jeremiah squints at him suspiciously.

 

“that sounds dangerously fast,” jerome just kisses him on the top of his head and heads to the door.

 

“gonna get my keys,” and then he’s gone, and it’s just him and bruce, and wow, this is _horribly_ uncomfortable for jeremiah. he can’t even bring himself to look at the billionaire. he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, or do, or what even happens next for them. for any of them. he stands up and wrings his hands together, staring at the floor and taking a quiet breath. he’s just mustering up the courage to say literally anything useful when bruce’s socked feet come into view, hands cupping both sides of his face gently. they’re warm, and confident, everything he wishes he could be. then bruce is kissing him, which is also gentle, warm, confident, and his heart feels heavy with something he doesn’t understand. bruce pulls away, eyes meeting his. they look happy.

 

“i’ll text you, okay?” bruce asks, smiling a little. jeremiah just nods, not knowing what else to say. “and we can take some time to properly discuss us. figure out what we are. i promise.” _us_. bruce leans forward and kisses him again, and jeremiah gains enough sense to kiss back this time, and he pushes a little harder, enjoying the way bruce inhales harshly through his nose. jeremiah hesitantly touches his waist, moving more into his space, but bruce pulls away again, laughing breathily. “i have to go. i’ll come back when i have time. try not to stress yourself out. i’m always a text or call away.” bruce steps away, and jeremiah reluctantly lets him. the billionaire gives him a kind smile, which jeremiah returns, a bubble of genuine happiness expanding in his chest. he turns and leaves the room, jerome loudly exclaiming ‘ _finally!_ ’, when the alarms begin to go off, and everything falls silent. jeremiah lets himself smile a real smile.

 

-

 

jerome has been driving in silence with bruce, not having a single care in the world because _wowie_ _wow_ , is this a wonderful ending to the day. he thinks it, and then remembers that it’s only noon, and the day still has so much more time to get better. maybe he will get him and jeremiah ice cream for the hell of it. maybe jeremiah will come out and sit on the couch with him to watch a movie on their actual t.v. jeremiah hasn’t done that with him in years. he’s so afraid of the door. _it’s_ _just_ _a_ _door_ , he thinks, but knows it’s not that simple.

 

bruce shifts, and he’s reminded of the fact that he’s seen bruce wayne _naked_ and he _remembers_. he cannot wait to see him again and again and _again and again_. he’s thrilled. he’s _ecstatic_. he wants to swerve the car into a tree from the raw energy it brings him.

 

“i know you have zero regrets,” bruce suddenly says into the silence, and _oh_   _boy_. “but will jeremiah?” it is a fair question, but not really one he can completely answer. he shrugs, hating how close they are to the pizza shoppe already. maybe bruce’s car will be stolen so he can take him all the way home.

 

“i wouldn’t say regrets,” he says vaguely. “just panic. his brain is going to catch up, and he’s _absolutely_ going to panic. probably mostly just embarrassment. no one’s done that before with him.” bruce doesn’t respond for almost a minute.

 

“no one?” he asks quietly, seeming shocked. jerome squints his eyes at bruce’s car, resisting the urge to smirk.

 

“not _that_ , no,” he answers, knowing his phrasing and tone is unnecessarily vague. “just be sensitive about it. _if_ you talk about it.” jerome parks next to bruce’s car again, frowning deeply because it’s still here. “no one stole your car.”

 

“don’t sound _too_ relieved,” bruce laughs out, unbuckling his seat-belt. he doesn’t immediately get out, and for some reason it makes jerome nervous. he blurts out something before he really thinks about it.

 

“you have zero regrets, right?” and he wants to ram his head into the steering wheel for sounding so fucking pathetic and stupid. why the fuck did he ask it like that?

 

“no,” bruce says softly. it makes him want to smash his head in even more. “jerome?” he looks at bruce with an eye-roll, annoyed at himself, but the kid just leans across the center console and kisses him, causing a weird flutter in his chest. he moves away as fast as he appeared, before jerome can really do anything, and opens his car door. “i’ll wait for you to ambush me with pointless texts.” and _damn_ _it_ , the kid is so fucking cocky right now, all of the attention clearly going to his arrogant little head.

 

“just for that, i’m not texting you,” bruce throws his head back in laughter, and jerome has to hide his smile, not wanting to look like a dope. bruce closes the door and walks around to his own car. jerome backs out and drives off, not wanting to prolong anything. he gets his phone out and texts jeremiah messily to let him know he’s on his way home, and notices all of the texts from jonathan and the idiots that were apart of the attempted jewelry heist. jerome decides they can wait until he gets home. he lets himself smile dopily as he drives home.

 

-

 

when bruce gets home, alfred is by his side immediately.

 

“master bruce,” he says, falsely calm. “you’re almost late.” he starts to head towards the stairs, needing to get changed as quickly as possible.

 

“yes, almost,” he rushes up the stairs, already slipping off his button up shirt. he opens his closet and hurriedly puts on a black turtleneck and a black blazer, deciding his pants and shoes are fine as is. the high neck hides the fresh marks that he prays alfred didn’t see. the man knowing he slept with jerome while drunk is embarrassing enough. bruce heads back down the stairs, but alfred stops him.

 

“i do hope that you’re not making less than ideal choices again, bruce,” he tilts his head, confused and a bit offended. “you’re gone an awful lot again recently. i’m just concerned, is all.” bruce smiles at alfred reassuringly.

 

“i’m fine, alfred,” he says. “i’ve been working with jeremiah on the generators. i can understand what my father saw in him,” he throws out there, knowing it will soften alfred up a little, put him at ease. “he’s brilliant. it isn’t quite there yet, but it can at least hold power on it’s own.” he picks up his keys again as he talks, alfred already smiling a bit apologetically.

 

“of course, master bruce,” he says tightly. “i hope anything else going on is equally as safe.” and bruce realizes the apologetic smile was fake, and alfred has _something_ on his mind, no doubt about jerome. he doesn’t have time to argue, though. he gives alfred a look.

 

“i have to go. i’ll be back as soon as it’s over.” he opens the front door and walks out, alfred watching him go from the doorway. “and please order chinese for dinner tonight!” he calls out behind him, hoping it lightens his butler’s mood a little. he hops in his car, feeling a spring in his step after the events of today. he thinks back on everything during his drive to wayne enterprises. jeremiah’s lips against his, jerome’s teeth biting into him, both of them using their hands very well, the weight of them both still lingering on his mind, because _jesus christ_ , they are _far_ above average. he may be superior in this city and when it comes to money, but everything about them screams stronger, bigger, powerful, and _bigger_. jerome is confident enough to put it to use and break bruce down in the best ways, and despite jeremiah’s nature, he can’t get the feeling of his hand around his throat out of his head. and the way jerome was so dominant during it all, and kissing jeremiah’s neck, and biting him, and how close he got to crossing a _huge_ line with his twin, and how willing jeremiah was to _let_ him-

 

bruce arrives at wayne enterprises far sooner than he would like, and he’s not even sure he will be able to concentrate. but he gets out of his car and approaches his building, his company, and smiles at everyone he passes.

 

-

 

“and those are the best descriptions you could give?” he asks the man in front of him, feeling exhausted by the sheer incompetence.

 

“yes!” he says, annoyed, as if he has any right to be. “one was wearing a mask that was super creepy, and another had an afro, and the other was scrawny. that’s all i got! i was a bit preoccupied, you know.” the man suddenly looks embarrassed, and oh, what the hell does _that_ mean? he leans forward intimidatingly.

 

“what do you mean ‘preoccupied’? you’re store was being robbed, and you were _busy_? what the hell could you be busy doing that you miss you’re store being _ransacked_? in broad daylight?” the man huffs now, face a bit red, but then he sighs defeatedly.

 

“i was-“ he starts to say, shaking his head. “i was in the back, with someone.” and dear god, he has to take a deep breath. “look, he came in all flustered and worried and it got flirty, you know? things happen! they just happened to happen when i was getting robbed.” the man finishes, looking utterly ashamed, and he very much should be. he fell right into the robber’s trap. he sighs heavily, picking up his pen again.

 

“and what exactly did this man look like?” he asks tiredly. “you should at least know what _he_ looks like.” the man looks at him unimpressed.

 

“he was wearing a nice shirt and tie, and tight pants, and he was a real reserved kind of guy, at first,” but that isn’t enough, he needs a real description- “oh! he had bright red hair! hard to miss.” the man looks ridiculously proud of himself for thinking up that one simple fact. he writes down the horrible description anyways, not sure it’s even going to be necessary.

 

“alright, thank you. we will get right on it.” he says in a fake cheery voice, smiling tiredly. the man nods and leaves, giving him the freedom to slump in his chair with an eye-roll.

 

“aw, did he wear you out, jimbo?” harvey teases him, leaning up against his desk.

 

“yeah, actually. there was a robbery at his jewelry store. but he missed it because he was sleeping with one of the robbers in the back room. he doesn’t even realize it was a part of the plan.” jim decides to explain to harvey what happened the way the man should have the moment he walked in here fifteen minutes ago.

 

“poor son of a bitch,” harvey says with zero sympathy. “wanna go get lunch? i’m starving,” jim tunes out his ramble about food as he stands up. he stares at the description again, eyes stuck on ‘red hair’. he gets a weird, sinking feeling in his gut. jim walks out of the station with harvey, letting it slip from his mind for now. harvey yells excitedly at the sight of a chinese restaurant sign down the street. jim can’t help but smile at his partner.

 

\- - -

 

_you think you’ve danced with the devil,_

 

_and you love him now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHAHAHAHAHAAA what did you think? was it good ??? or bad ????? please give me some feedback on this, i'm freaking out about it. i want to get better at writing smutty things, so please feel free to give advice! i love advice! i'm still new to writing, so i need it. and what did you think about the ending? what do you think of me doing moments in jim's pov? i'm excited for the fun pov's coming in the future. (:
> 
> i've had some doubts about where i'm taking this story. but some commenters have been voicing their support, so i hope this chapter wasn't uncomfortable relating to the j/miah moments. it makes me extra nervous. hope they were still enjoyable, in a way. i feel weird hoping you guys are enjoying the twincest type moments, but here i am! hoping you are! hahaha
> 
> thank you so much for reading, can't wait to share what comes next. thank you for your endless support of my story and what i'm creating. remember, i'm creating this for every single one of you reading this. i love you. ❤️❤️❤️


	17. the drowning wave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! got a lovely little update for ya! thanks to everyone who responded to my authors not i had up for a little while, i'm hoping this one looks good. i had a lot of fun writing this one, and exploring new things and leading up to some fun times...and not so fun times.  
> also, i know i have some readers who do not speak english as their first language, and translate this story. i hope that jerome's text talk translates okay for those of you, and that it isn't confusing. if it is, i'd be happy to make his texting more literate.
> 
> little WARNING : some violence in this chapter, and past abuse to animals worded a bit harshly. ( i love animals i promise ): )
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 18k this time!!! (-: these chapter lengths are ridiculous, i'm so sorry
> 
> read on! ❤️❤️

_today, i’m thinkin’ about_

_the things that are deadly._

_the way i’m drinkin’ you down, like i wanna drown,_

_like i wanna end me._

 

\- - -

 

when jerome comes home, he brings chocolate ice cream with brownie chunks in it, knowing it’s jeremiah’s favorite. his twin has always loved brownies, and chocolate, although dark chocolate is his preference. of course it would be. it’s bitter and makes jerome’s tongue feel weird. he bought himself a tub of strawberry with real strawberries in it, and some chocolate syrup. he excitedly drops them on the island, kicking off his shoes in the kitchen.

 

“i got some ice cream!” he shouts down the hallway, already moving back to get two bowls. he’s eating some now, and so is jeremiah, whether he actually wants it or not. he hears socked feet shuffle their way into the kitchen, and jerome continues to putter away, getting out spoons and the scoop. “i got your favorite. i want to watch a movie or something. can we do that?” he knows he’s being a bit hyper, but he’s just fucking excited. he is about to scoop his, but stops, moving to scoop jeremiah’s first, knowing he’d have to wash it off so he doesn’t get strawberry in jeremiah’s chocolate. his twin hates when foods mix. jerome doesn’t mind though.

 

“um, sure,” jeremiah says meekly. “what do you want to watch?” jerome shrugs, sliding the heftily filled bowl across the island.

 

“i have no clue, and don’t really care,” jerome says, tossing the scoop in the sink after filling his own bowl to the brim and grabbing the chocolate syrup. “we can watch it on the t.v.? in the living room? on the couch?” he suggests hopefully, even though he already knows the answer.

 

“or _not_ on the t.v.,” jeremiah says firmly but quietly. jerome smiles devilishly as he watches the chocolate syrup pour out all over the strawberry ice cream, drowning it.

 

“but on the couch?” he says, still clinging to his hopeful tone. jerome glances at jeremiah quickly for the first time, and expects to see disgust on his face as he observes jerome’s bowl of ice cream. instead, he’s just watching blankly. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. it’s different.

 

“in your bed,” jeremiah corrects. “on my laptop?” and that is a new suggestion at least, seeing as they usually cram together at the island while eating dinner and watch on jerome’s phone. they usually just talk over the movies anyway. well, jerome does. he smiles widely and grabs his spoon, jeremiah doing the same.

 

“let’s go, romeo,” he giggles at his rhyme, and then giggles at jeremiah’s sigh. “i’ll get your laptop,” jerome hands off his ice cream and walks quickly down to the end of the hall into jeremiah’s main office, but doesn’t see the laptop anywhere. strange, he thinks. he goes back out and walks to the building room, but it isn’t there either. “where the hell is it?” jerome mumbles to himself. he stops in front of the private office door, and opens it slowly, feeling unsure. he purses his lips and fully opens the door, flicking on the blue lights.

 

part of jerome understands this room. the blue lighting is the opposite of the bright red decorations and blinding, ugly yellow lighting everywhere from the circus. he hated obnoxious colors, loud sounds, crowds of people, everything jerome loved about it. and sure, jerome’s personality is everything jeremiah dislikes, too. it weighs on his mind a lot. but he attempts to keep himself toned down when they’re alone, not being too loud or obnoxious. but even as kids he was the people person. he would get excited on performance nights, and would jump and leap theatrically through the crowds of people. eventually, jeremiah stopped coming with him, and refused to leave the trailer during those nights. jerome never pushed it. looking back, maybe he should have. maybe he wouldn’t be as afraid now as he is. maybe things would have been less severe.

 

it doesn’t matter now, though, does it?

 

he enters the space with light footsteps, feeling like a cockroach in a posh house, a can of roach spray hanging over his head, waiting for him to move so he can be drowned in poison. he spots the laptop on the glass coffee table in the middle of the room, and he quickly scoops it up and turns to leave, flicking off the lights and shutting the door gently, letting out a breath. he opens the laptop as he walks back down to his door, typing in jeremiah’s password. _0 9 1 3_. their birthday. _what a sap_ , he thinks with a smile. he pauses, though, when the screen lights up with jeremiah’s emails. he sees that he corresponds with that doctor lady quite often. leslie thompkins. he never opened her last email labeled ‘urgent’. the first few lines are displayed in bold.

 

_**hello, jeremiah. i have a new medication for you. i think it’s perfect. how are things with the situation of love? i have....** _

 

the words disappear, and they are _begging_ jerome to open it, but his twin would know, would see that the email was read. _love_? jeremiah talked to this woman about love? does he even understand that word? he pushes down the confusion and closes out of the email page, not having time to dwell on it. he can later. he enters his bedroom to find his twin sitting crisscross on his bed, already eating his ice cream. his hair is still a curly mess, and his eyes catch on the mark on the left side of his neck. the one _he_ made. he feels warmth coil low in his stomach, but quickly pushes it down with a smile. jeremiah looks at him, eyes going sad. he tries to smile wider.

 

“so, what are ya in the mood for, huh?” he says loudly, obnoxiously, and _damn_ , is he always like this? does he just _think_ he tones it down for jeremiah? “comedy, horror, action,” he says it softer as he sits delicately on the bed as to not disturb his ice cream. “we could watch a really cheesy movie and make fun of it? actually, we could do that with literally any genre.” jerome scoots one of his pillows up against the wall behind his bed to lean against, laptop resting on his lap. jeremiah does the same, not saying a word yet. he types in his totally legal movie website and scrolls through the home page of movies. “oh yeah, i need to show ya the music download thing. so you can put music on your phone. you can jam while you build shit. or while you shower. or while you cook. jam while doing anything.” still, jeremiah hasn’t said anything. he glances to his left, eyebrows furrowing in concern. jeremiah is just staring at the screen, slowly eating his ice cream, expression neutral. he doesn’t like it. “hey, you in there?” he waves his hand in front of his twin’s face, and he doesn’t even flinch. he does at least look at him, and his eyes go a bit sad again, but it doesn’t look right.

 

“can we lay down for a few minutes?” jeremiah eventually asks quietly, voice sounding scared, so jerome nods, quickly setting his ice cream and the laptop on the floor and doing the same with jeremiah’s almost empty bowl. jeremiah blinks at him as they scoot down the bed, heads sharing a pillow. his twin still looks sad, but something just _isn’t right_.

 

“is there something on your mind?” jerome decides to ask, genuinely concerned. jeremiah looks at him, but his gaze kind of goes through him, and jerome is now a bit afraid. “jeremiah?”

 

“i remember, you know,” his twin suddenly says, voice monotonous. “i remember that night.” and jerome doesn’t understand why he would bring that up right now, or why he _wouldn’t_ remember that night- “not that night. a different one, one you probably block out,” jerome is laying on his back, so when jeremiah sits up on his side to face him, he starts to feel strangely intimidated. what the hell is this about? “i wish i could block it out, but i can’t. i’ll always remember. and today just brought it up, made the memory resurface, and now, i,” jeremiah smiles with a breath that sounds eerily close to a laugh, and jerome’s blood runs cold. “i understand,” he tenses up when jeremiah swings a leg over him, straddling him in a swift movement. “i get it, jerome,” one of jeremiah’s hand is sliding up his chest, and what the fuck is happening? his own hands are hovering uncertainly, face tense, because jeremiah’s eyes aren’t sad anymore, and his voice isn’t afraid, and _shit_. he feels like he just got slapped in the face at the realization that something _was_ off about it. jeremiah wasn’t actually feeling it. jerome couldn’t feel the familiar weight of his twin’s sadness, and _fuck_ , jeremiah just _manipulated_ him. what the fuck is happening? jeremiah doesn’t do that, not unless-

 

oh. oh, no. this isn’t boding well for jerome.

 

he starts to wonder about the hand sliding up his chest, how misleadingly gentle it is. he puts his hands down on the top of jeremiah’s thighs, swallowing hard.

 

“miah, what are you doing?” he asks it cautiously, but keeps his voice steady and firm. jeremiah’s eyes fall to his throat, expression still dead. his blank expression is nothing compared to this. “miah-“ his words stop, jeremiah’s hand suddenly sliding up to curl around his throat, putting enough pressure to shock the air out of him. one hand reaches up instinctively, grabbing at his wrist, eyes going a bit wide.

 

“i remember what you did to me,” jeremiah says, voice way too calm, eyes snapping back up to meet his. but they are glazed over, and this isn’t miah, this is _jeremiah_. he feels panic rush through him, knowing that this isn’t a joke, this isn’t going to end well, and he needs to figure out how to get out of this situation, right fucking now. “i remember the way you cuddled up to me that night, like usual. but you just _had_ to do it. you just had to exhaust that desire of what it felt like,” and _fuck_ , he’s pressing harder, hard enough jeremiah’s body starts to lean into it. jerome squeezes his eyes closed, remembering exactly what jeremiah is talking about. but he doesn’t need to focus on the words, he needs to speak his own, get himself out of his grip - “even when i was begging you to stop, you wouldn’t. you didn’t care. and it used to scare me, used to make me hurt, but now, after experiencing it myself, i _get it_ ,” jeremiah leans his face down closer, hand managing to tighten even more. “but i still can’t get that fear out of my head. the fear you caused. you were going to kill me,” jerome shakes his head, but all it does is cause jeremiah to lean his weight more onto the hand around his throat, and his lungs are starting to burn, and his eyes are watering, vision going black at the edges, and he needs to fight but he _can’t_. “why aren’t you fighting me?” jeremiah asks, as if he read his mind, which wouldn’t be surprising. he says it a bit desperately, and when jerome focuses hard enough, he can see the way his twin’s eyes are starting to crack, and he knows this is his chance. he reaches up and shakily touches his cheek with his fingers.

 

“never hurting you again,” he pushes out, words barely there, and he sees his twin’s eyes shatter, fear clouding them over and then he’s letting go, and jerome is coughing harshly, close to vomitting, but he needs to catch his twin before he runs. jeremiah springs back on the bed, breathing loud like he’s been shot in the stomach, and jerome sits up and lunges as carefully as a lunge can be. he’s still trying to breathe himself, totally thrown off by what just happened, and he still isn’t one hundred percent sure what the fuck it was. but he wraps his arms around jeremiah, capturing his twin’s arms between their bodies, and his twin fights it, harsh sobs and good attempts to hit him, but jerome just holds on, trying to stop this, to get miah to calm down, _calm down_ , _i’m okay_ , _you’re okay_.

 

“j,” it’s weak and drowned out by a sob, but it’s enough, the pain and regret and fear and guilt weighing him down very real this time. jeremiah stops fighting, hands latching onto the shirt over his chest, forehead resting in the space between his neck and shoulder, the spot wet now, but it doesn’t matter. jerome keeps his arms tight around his back, not sure what’s going to happen next. he’s never been on the receiving end of that, of jeremiah’s raw strength and chilling tone. what the fuck was that? why did _that_ night suddenly appear, causing such a strong reaction? what the _fuck_? and then it all hits him.

 

jeremiah choked bruce during their little threesome.

 

jerome can imagine now the inner turmoil to begin with that he hadn’t thought about in the moment. and how selfish, jerome thinks, that he wouldn’t have thought about the effect it could have on his twin, or the old feelings it might bring up. he never considered that jeremiah might have been afraid. he certainly never considered jeremiah being afraid of _him_. but he said that he _understands_ , that he _gets it_ , and he wants to know what exactly jeremiah means by that. he has a feeling he knows, of course he does, but he has to hear the truth from jeremiah himself. but it can wait. he needs to get jeremiah breathing properly. jerome runs a hand through his hair, knowing that it helps, knowing it soothes him, and he feels jeremiah slump a little in his arms. his breathing is still too harsh, he’s still panicking way too much.

 

“miah, you’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe,” jerome says into his ear, but the words aren’t getting through to his twin, and jerome realizes he’s too far into the panic attack to come back out naturally. “i’m right here,” he says instead, knowing that he needs to at least be reassuring and as comforting as he can be. he's never not been able to pull jeremiah back from a panic attack. he's never had to hold him helplessly. “i’m not goin’ anywhere.” he promises, words sounding choked, and then jeremiah starts to slump more, hands loosening from his shirt, and breathing falling quieter. he waits a few seconds, feeling the panic pull back as sudden as an ocean wave crashing into the shore only to quietly flow back into itself, as if it didn't just drown everything in it's path. he hates that his eyes are still watery, hates that his heart aches because his baby brother has passed out in his arms from sheer panic, panic that _jerome_ caused, panic that’s been pent up for years that _he_ unleashed.

 

jerome lays them down gently, staring at jeremiah’s wet, swollen face, glasses a bit bent up. he removes them and wipes at his both of their eyes, knowing jeremiah hates the way tears make his face feel when they dry up. his heart swells, and he takes in the face of the only person who’s been there his entire life in every sense of the words. his throat is on fire, and he’s sure the bruise will be ugly, but it’s what he deserves. he feels shame for what he did. he did a lot of things when he was fourteen, it was one hell of a year, but nothing caused regret except for that. the urge to kill his brother had tickled the edges of his conscious for years, since he was seven years old. and when he looked into jeremiah’s sleepy eyes, and took in his flushed face as jerome scooted closer that night instead of waiting for jeremiah to silently ask, he couldn’t hold it in. he had to see if it was possible, to see how it felt when it wasn’t an animal. and jeremiah had stared at him with wide, watery eyes when jerome had climbed on top of him and started to curl his fingers slowly around his throat. and now, it makes sense why jeremiah did it the way he did, and _jesus_ , it’s _terrifying_ to jerome that he manipulated the situation, and he got jerome _exactly_ where he wanted him. jerome didn’t see it coming. jeremiah could have killed him, and he would have let him, all the while being none the wiser of what had been brewing. and as he pets jeremiah’s face, he feels a locked door creak back open, one he doesn’t want open. he can barely keep the door closed on his emotions regarding jeremiah and bruce and both and _fuck_ , the other door opening now would lead to nightmares. it used to be open all the time, pushing jeremiah to do bad things, to do the twisted, fucked up things he would do. jeremiah would do them, and it thrilled jerome. he loved watching the calculated, cold, uncaring way his twin would snap a bird’s neck that jerome had knocked out of a tree, and would hand jerome a brick he found so jerome could smash a squirrels head in while he watched, or would use the nail gun jerome would steal to shoot at animals from a distance, and sometimes not so distant.

 

but jerome can’t open that door again. he can’t. no matter how strong the urge is to bring jeremiah back, or his desire to see him be so unforgiving. it was just used against him. what if he uses it against _bruce_?

 

the thought shoots fear through him, something he doesn’t like to feel. bruce being hurt, being afraid of jeremiah, is something that _can’t_ happen. bruce can’t even know about this old side of him. jerome doesn’t care if the kid understands what _he’s_ like. bruce already knows he’s a highly skilled thief who has no problem physically harming and manipulating people to get what he wants. but jeremiah is _good_. jeremiah is just a broken, fragile person who needs someone to pull him away from the edge. the edge just isn’t what bruce, or anyone else, thinks it is. it isn’t suicide, or alcohol poisoning, or drug overdose, no; it’s violence, it’s paranoid driven destruction, it’s jeremiah having power over anything he can after years of having power over nothing, not even himself, and willing to do whatever it takes to have control. he’s seen what he’s capable of, he’s seen attempted denial of his success, he’s seen the things in his journal. he knows jeremiah’s mind. he knows what’s lurking in the depths that he’s not even sure jeremiah is completely aware of anymore. he’s spent so long trying to change, to be better, to be _normal_. and with bruce here, he’s been working overtime. but he also knows the dark side of jeremiah’s attention. he can’t help the seed of worry he feels for bruce. but before he can ponder more on jeremiah, his twin’s face twitches, and he knows he’s waking up.

 

when he opens his eyes, he registers that his head hurts.

 

he feels a warm hand heavy on his left cheek, thumb stroking a slow rhythm, and he isn’t really sure what anything really is right now.

 

“miah, really look at me,” and when he blinks a few times, his eyes focus in on jerome’s face close to his own, eye’s clouded with concern and a false aura of easy-going. “hey, there you are.” at least he’s talking quietly, jeremiah thinks, eyes squeezing shut again briefly. “do you know where you are?” and what a strange question to ask someone upon waking. but why is he even waking up? he doesn’t remember falling asleep. maybe it was an accidental nap.

 

“bedroom,” he answers, voice feeling like it’s been stripped away, leaving only the bare minimum behind.

 

“who’s bedroom?” jerome asks, voice still quiet-ish, and jeremiah decides he’s already tired of the questions. he sighs.

 

“i don’t _know_ ,” he whines out, voice still barely there, and rolls onto his back. he attempts to sit up, but instantly feels dizzy, and his headache gets worse.

 

“lay down, miah,” jerome helps him gently fall back onto the bed on his back, one hand remaining on his waist, and warm pressure keeping him in place. “do you remember what happened?” and he also is starting to dislike his quiet-ish voice, because it sounds professional, like he’s talking to a child in a hospital who’s being scolded for a false abuse accusation. he hates that he knows what that voice sounds like. “miah, i need you to talk to me.”

 

“i don’t _know_ , i don’t-“ he feels a rush of panic because he’s missing something, he _missed_ something, and jerome is concerned, and he feels like he’s been asleep for ten years and he just can’t wake up.

 

“okay, hey, don’t panic again,” jerome rolls him onto his side, and jeremiah opens his eyes, brain catching the word _again_ , and realizes he must have had a panic attack. “you had a panic attack. you’re okay, you’re safe. i just need to know what you remember.” but jeremiah doesn’t remember, never fully remembers for a while. it takes time for any memory five minutes prior to it to reappear, but the panic attacks themselves never come back to him. he tries to think, tries to make anything resurface, but he can’t even remember jerome coming home right now.

 

“i can’t-it takes _time_ -“

 

“that’s fine. there’s no rush,” jerome interrupts, hand settling on his cheek again. “let it come back to you.” he closes his eyes again, temples pounding to the beat of his heart. he moves his legs, forgetting he even had them, and feels his knees bump into jerome’s. for some reason it’s comforting. he presses them completely to his twin’s. he thinks he can smell strawberries, and chocolate, and he can feel how sticky the inside of his mouth is, and he wants to brush his teeth, and then it hits him that jerome came home with-

 

“ice cream,” he mumbles out loud. “you came home with ice cream. i ate some, i can-i can feel it in my mouth,” and jerome breathes out through his nose, the rush of air hitting his mouth. “you wanted to watch a movie. i said yes.”

 

“alright, doing good so far,” jerome says. jeremiah opens his eyes, eyes caught on his kind smile, but he feels guilt and shame loitering in his chest, feelings that aren’t his own, and knows the smile is a facade of sorts. and when his eyes move lower, his body tenses, and he stops breathing, completely shocked to see the red marks across jerome’s throat. “miah.” but he can’t look away, can’t stop staring at them, and it registers that on one side it looks like fingers, _it looks like fingers_ , that’s from a _hand_ \- “miah, stop panicking. don’t have a second panic attack, neither of us can handle that,”

 

“did i do that?” he asks shakily, but tries to keep his voice strong. “during my panic attack. did i do that?” he sees jerome swallow.

 

“no, not during the panic attack,” and jeremiah doesn’t understand, he doesn’t - “miah, please,” jerome tilts his face up so that their eyes are forced to meet, and he sees how serious he looks, how distraught jerome is, so he does his best to swallow down his initial panic and listen to his twin. “it’s my fault, and i had it coming,” jeremiah huffs. “i did. for _years_ , i’ve had that coming. and i never should have pushed you today. i shouldn’t have made you do what you did with bruce, i should have known that that could be triggering for you,” jerome’s words are coming out too rushed, and jeremiah isn’t caught up yet as it is. “it was selfish. i’ve been selfish lately. and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, for what i did to you.” but now, jeremiah starts to understand the situation a little, starts to put the pieces together the best he can. the hand-shaped mark on jerome’s throat that he caused, him choking bruce today, what jerome did to him all those years ago. his eyes well up with hot tears, spilling over almost instantly.

 

“i hurt you,” he mumbles pointlessly, but he can’t help it. jerome just frowns.

 

“like i said, i had it comin’,” but that isn’t enough for jeremiah, not really. jerome wipes the tear that spilled out of his left eye over the bridge of his nose. “can we just call it even and try to move on?” but how is jeremiah supposed to move on and pretend he didn’t choke his brother out when the mark is clear as fucking day on his neck? and it’s only going to get worse, get darker, become more obvious and prominent. “i know what happened was a big deal, and i’m not trying to brush it off, but jeremiah, you are on the _edge_ of happiness,” and that makes more tears well up, because _damn it_ , he _was_. “i’m not letting this fuck it up forever for you. but you do need to talk to bruce-“ and _no no no_ -

 

“you can’t tell bruce, you can’t-“

 

“no, i’m not, _no_ -“ jerome quickly interrupts, halting his words and onset of panic. “but you need to be honest with him. things went too fast. it was too much, too fast for you.” oh, the truth in that statement makes him squeeze his eyes shut in humiliation. “that’s not something to be ashamed of. it was your first time with someone and you jumped right into choking. even _i_ can see now how that might be too much in general, but add on everything else, and fuck, miah,” jerome laughs at the end, but he knows it isn’t a real laugh. “just tell him that. he’ll understand. he’ll go at your pace. your _actual_ pace, instead of the one we created for you.” jeremiah hates that this is falling onto someone other than him, because it isn’t anyone’s fault but his own.

 

“i said no when i didn’t want to do something,” he says in response. “i could have said no. but i didn’t. i wanted to do the things i did, and that’s why i did them.” he wanted it to come out angry, to show he feels strongly about this, but his voice shakes too much and is still halfway gone.

 

“i know,” jerome says softly, and it isn’t a lie. “i know. but you did what you wanted in the _moment_ , and then you were given time alone to think about everything you did. and that was my biggest mistake.” jerome pauses, and jeremiah hates how serious this is. for once, he wants jerome to break the tension and make a stupid joke, make all of this go away. “i know bruce had somewhere to be, and that’s fine, but i-i should have just let him take my car. i should have stayed with you, and talked to you, and made sure you were okay.” jeremiah is shaking his head before jerome even finishes the sentence.

 

“not everything is about _me_ , jerome-“

 

“to me, it is.” jerome says over him, voice hard enough to make him flinch a little. his twin notices, visibly softening. “you are my _world_ , jeremiah,” and the words knock the remaining air from his lungs. “everything is about you, everything i do is _for you_ , and it always has been. but i failed you today, which i’ve been doing way too often lately. i’m gonna do better. i promise, i won’t let you get to a breaking point like this again. i’ll help you before it gets this bad.” jerome’s anger at himself seeps it’s way into his own soul, and he hates it. he wants to stomp it out. but he also feels his own anger at himself. he can understand. he looks at jerome’s throat again, at the damage he caused, and when he thinks about it, he can hear the damage in jerome’s voice as well. “we were a little high, and there was a lot of arousal clouding our judgement, and i admit, i’ve been a bit high on excitement after the fact. i haven’t really been thinking ahead. i rarely do anyways,” jerome smiles apologetically, jeremiah’s eyes catching on it again. “but after this, seeing consequences first hand of my dick thinking for me, i gotta do better,” jeremiah feels a bitter smile threaten to slip out, but he refrains from doing so. jerome must see it in his eyes though. “yeah, i was thinking completely, and solely, with my dick, all day long. and yeah, i tend to do that a lot anyways, too. the thought of watching you choke bruce,” jerome takes a deep breath, obviously re-feeling it all. “it just sounded fantastic. i didn’t really keep in mind, well, literally anything else. so,” he attempts to shrug, lips pursing thoughtfully. but jeremiah feels uneasy, as the memory of what he did comes back to him. crawling on top of him, hand so gentle, before squeezing the life out of him. he feels like it wasn’t even really him.

 

“i think you’re taking what i did a bit too lightheartedly,” jeremiah starts to say. he ignores jerome’s eye roll. “i’m serious. i _manipulated_ you, jerome. i remember it. and i-“ he blinks, still a bit disbelieving of how far he went. “i did to you exactly what you did to me. and i could have done worse, and you weren’t going to stop me,” jerome opens his mouth, but jeremiah beats him to it. “you have to stop me when i get like that, jerome. you _have_ to. i’m more mad at you because you were going to let yourself die than i ever would be if you knocked my ass out to save us both from a world of hurt. do you understand what i’m saying?” jeremiah searches his twin’s eyes, and sees genuine understanding and guilt.

 

“yeah, i just,” jerome looks away, swallowing. “part of me knew i wasn’t going to die. die is a strong word, right? god, sorry,” jerome pauses, aware of his bad joke. “i haven’t seen your dark side in a very long time, miah. i was a bit in shock myself.” jerome touches his cheek again lightly, eyes distant. “i’ve never been on the receiving end of that before. and yeah, i was terrified to die like that, but i couldn’t bring myself to stop you. i couldn’t help but wonder if you would really do it.” the words shock jeremiah. he shifts a hand to grip at jerome’s shirt. “i knew when i was hurting you i wasn’t going to go through with it. but you didn’t know that, just like i didn’t know if you were or not. i wanted to find out. and i guess i did,” jeremiah swallows, not sure himself what the answer actually is. he will let jerome think he knows what it is. there isn’t any point in arguing it. “maybe stay away from bruce’s choking kink for a while, yeah?” jeremiah lets his eyes close, almost forgetting that that’s where this started. “and i’ll keep my own in check.” jeremiah reopens his eyes to stare confused at jerome. his twin just smiles at him. “i’ll try to keep my hands away from any necks if you’re there, i mean.”

 

“do you plan for me to be involved in plenty of your sexual escapades?” jeremiah asks, only half joking. jerome rolls his eyes.

 

“i’m hoping you get involved with bruce and i quite often, yeah,” jerome says, like it was an obvious thing he wanted. his heartbeat picks up in speed, not expecting that. “i doubt bruce would mind in the slightest. but i’m serious about the choking thing.”

 

“i know, i understand,” jeremiah says a bit irritatedly. “what if bruce asks again-“

 

“you say you can’t,” jerome says firmly. “he is understanding, miah. he won’t push it.” jeremiah nods, because it’s true, he knows logically bruce won’t hold it against him if he says no. he didn’t hold it against him when he said no to bruce begging explicitly. he just accepted it and they all moved on to something better. much better, actually. “it’s a dangerous kink as it is without proper discussion, and you being new to everything-it was just poor judgement on my part, considering bruce somehow had no clue you had never done anything like that before.” jeremiah’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out when he fully registers what jerome just said.

 

“i’m not completely sure if i should be offended by the way you phrased that, or grateful that bruce didn’t notice how horribly lost i was the entire time,” jerome’s eyes sparkle, but jeremiah’s quickly dull when they drift down to his neck again.

 

“well, it’s an interesting thing, actually, but we can talk about that later,” but jeremiah is now curious, because jerome is subtly avoiding a topic, and jerome _never_ does that. “did you wanna talk about anything else serious while we’re here? i know you were shaken up about your little, uh,” jerome’s mouth quirks. “drunken escapade, so to speak,” jeremiah groans, face heating up, because it’s one thing after another for him. “look, that is also an interesting thing, and kinda funny. so stop freaking out about everything. this is actually going to make you feel better about trying to kill me,” and jeremiah wants to punch him, because he keeps joking about it, but it isn’t a joke, at all. “sorry, sorry, i know. i can’t help it. i’m not mad about it so i just resort to laughing about it.”

 

“i know,” jeremiah sighs out, eyes closing. “i’m just not ready to laugh about it.”

 

“you don’t laugh at anything,” jerome quips back, making jeremiah hit him in the chest. “okay, but you might laugh at yourself over why you smooched me while you were shit-faced.” he groans again, really regretting saying anything to jerome about remembering it. “do you _really_ not remember why you did it or what you said?” jerome asks skeptically.

 

“no, i just remember actions, motions, not words,” jeremiah explains. “i vividly remember throwing up.” he makes a face, and jerome laughs a little.

 

“i vividly remember, too,” he says sadly. “but basically, i was trying to put you to bed after you threw up, but you were trying to talk to me about why you were so upset. you kept saying ‘i regret it’ but i really didn’t wanna hear anything until you were sober,” jeremiah feels a fond sense of gratitude that jerome wasn’t going to take advantage of him while drunk. “so i said, ‘no, i don’t wanna _hear_ nothing about what you regret’, and you looked at me with this blank ass expression and just-you planted one on me,” jeremiah’s face heats up, shame swirling in his stomach. “it was, like, two seconds, and when you pulled away, you just stared at me, and then said, ‘you don’t wanna hear it, then i’ll show you.’” and jeremiah wants to face palm, wants to punch drunk jeremiah in the face for saying something so god damn stupid. “it was so ridiculous, miah-i mean, not at the time, because then you started crying, and i realized what you regretted doing-but now, i see how clever it kinda was. and you managed to _still_ be a smart ass while drunk and depressed!” jeremiah closes his eyes, sighing heavily. deep down, he knows that isn’t the only reason he went for it. he was drunk, and an easy excuse as it was. his brain worked out that he could kiss jerome because he kissed bruce while drunk, but he isn’t proud of the thinking process. jerome really doesn’t get it. but jeremiah thinks that’s okay.

 

“i think me losing my head and choking you out of nowhere is much worse,” he decides to say. “and i’m still really sorry. i don’t know why i got like that, jerome.” his tone gives away how tired he is, and jerome perks up a little.

 

“well, hey,” jerome says quietly. “why don’t you shower, and when you’re done, we can actually watch a movie. and by that, i mean you fall asleep while i talk over it because it’s a really stupid movie.” jeremiah almost laughs, almost smiles, but he can’t shake the heaviness of the situation like jerome can. “ah, shit, the ice cream,” jerome rolls away and peeks over the edge of the bed, before sighing sadly. “it’s completely melted. guess i could get a straw.”

 

“ _don’t you dare_ ,” he immediately grits out, jerome laughing heartily, eyes sparkling again. jeremiah lets himself smile a little, too, but makes sure he’s still expressing how disgusted he is. “i will _not_ sit next to you while you drink melted ice cream, you _sicko_ ,” jerome waves his hand dismissively.

 

“fine, fine,” he says, already sitting up and moving away, leaving jeremiah cold. “i’ll do it while you’re in the shower.”

 

“please, god, _don’t_ ,” and jerome is laughing again, but it’s hoarse, and jeremiah is hit again by the memory, his hand around his twin’s throat, and he has to go somewhere else. “i’ll go shower.” he stands up, on the opposite side of the bed as jerome, wanting distance now more than ever. he scurries to the door and heads out without looking back. he hates that he likes the way jerome’s laugh sounds. he hates that he likes the way it’s damaged and raspy. he hates that he wants it to always sound like that.

 

-

 

when bruce arrives home from his two hour meeting, he still doesn’t have any texts from jerome, and is shocked that he actually meant it. he hates that he feels disappointed. he walks into his bedroom and is greeted by selina sitting at his desk.

 

“selina,” he greets somewhat stiffly, not looking forward to this at all.

 

“alfred said you’d be back soon, so i figured i’d wait,” she says, examining a pen with a bored expression. “you know, i really thought you’d stand up for me better.” she drawls disappointedly. bruce holds in a sigh.

 

“you always say you can handle yourself," he says, honestly confused. "what you did is more complicated than you understand-“ which must have been a very bad thing to say judging by the look on her face.

 

“make me understand, then,” she bites out, cheeks flushed in anger. “a guy you claim to be friends with threatened me with a _knife_. how much more complicated is it than that?” bruce takes a few cautious steps closer.

 

“he wasn’t threatening you without reason,” he starts to explain calmly. she rolls her eyes but he continues before she can interrupt. “it’s not like they knew why you were there, selina, or who you were. they saw you as a threat that night, and he still does. no one likes to feel threatened.” she uncrosses her arms, deflating a little.

 

“you keep saying ‘they’,” she suddenly points out. “i didn’t know there was another person you were sneaking off to see.” bruce tries to keep his face in check.

 

“it’s who he was defending,” bruce explains vaguely, not wanting to give her too much detail. “can you please just not hold this against him? you two actually have a lot in common.” selina scoffs, lifting herself off of his desk to wonder aimlessly. “really. he’s a skilled thief with a hatred for,” he pauses. “well, everything and everyone.” she tilts her head at him, lips in a tight frown.

 

“that’s a _lot_ to have in common,” she says sarcastically. “and apparently he doesn’t hate _you_ , judging by how often you two spend time together. and, if you aren’t together, you’re attached to your phone.” this time bruce doesn’t bother holding back the sigh.

 

“well, you don’t hate me either. i don’t think,” he adds on, uncertainly. she scoffs at him again. “another thing in common. and i can spend my time with whomever i want. you do the same, right?” selina looks at him, like she’s shocked by his words. he doesn’t understand why, because it’s true. “you would get mad at me when i questioned the people you chose to hang around.” and selina takes a deep breath, lips pursing as she seems to reluctantly see his point. “just promise that you won’t show up there again,” he takes a couple more steps towards her, tone soft and pleading. she looks him up and down, thinking about her answer.

 

“sorry for freaking your friends out,” she says, tone making it sound like she doesn’t mean it. he knows her better than that, though. “i won’t show up again.” she looks down at the ground, before looking back up at him with a soft gaze, one she often gives him after a disagreement.

 

“thanks for at least talking to me about it instead of avoiding me,” bruce concedes, smiling softly. “i think you owe jerome an apology, though.” her eyes harden a little.

 

“i’d rather just owe him a favor,” she says, tilting her head. “we are both in the thief lifestyle. i’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths. but, if we do, i’ll help him if he needs it.” selina agrees begrudgingly to her own deal, and bruce isn’t going to push it more than that. he’s lucky she didn’t punch him. again.

 

“i’ll let him know.” he says with a smile. selina touches his cheek gently, and gives it a pat.

 

“watch yourself, bruce.” she says warningly. she walks backwards away from him and climbs out his window. he still has no idea how she gets up this high, or how she gets down safely. he supposes jerome’s nickname relating her to a cat makes sense.

 

he lets out a long sigh, glad that that somehow went so well. he’s sure selina is still brewing under the surface, her pride hurt and the feral side of her wanting to rip jerome to shreds for holding a knife to her. bruce doesn’t know who he should have been worried about. he understands now that jerome would truly do whatever it takes to guarantee jeremiah’s safety. he can respect that. he’s known from the beginning how much jeremiah meant to him before he even knew the other man. jerome was reserved when talking about him, but his eyes lit up, and bruce could tell that he wanted to spill everything. the thought reminds him of a small moment with jeremiah before-well. everything happened. jeremiah had said there was something he needed to tell him, that if they were going somewhere he deserved to know. bruce had almost forgotten, but now it’s at the forefront of his mind as he slides off his blazer and tosses it on his bed. what was jeremiah going to share with him? was it a dark secret of their past? was it something about his mental health that he isn’t aware of yet? is it something about jerome’s mental health? or maybe it’s something smaller, something that isn’t very deep but feels necessary to share, like he’s allergic to shrimp, or he hates the color black and wants bruce’s wardrobe to change. but bruce doesn’t think it’s something that simple. the way jeremiah’s voice shook, and his hands twisted, and his gaze completely averted. it was something serious. maybe he should text him, see if it’s still something he wants to talk to bruce about sometime. maybe the next time he comes over? it wouldn’t hurt to ask, he thinks, sitting down on his bed and pulling out his phone. but is it too soon to start texting jeremiah? he hasn’t even heard from jerome. he’s sure jerome is just screwing with him, but part of him is worried. he decides to give in and text jerome first, but he isn’t sure if he should express concern or joke around with him. the redhead probably prefers joking, but he’s also curious if jeremiah did panic, like jerome had said he would do. maybe he can try a mixture of both.

 

-i thought you were joking when you said you weren’t going to text me. how’s it going over there across gotham?-

 

and bruce knows it sounds so _stupid_ , but the worst jerome could do is laugh at him, which he does anyway, and it’s not like he will have to actually hear it. he sends it and stares at the blue bubble of text, waiting for the little word ‘read’ to pop up. when it doesn’t immediately show up, he locks his phone and flops backwards on the bed. he thinks.

 

he thinks maybe he’s hit the jackpot.

 

bruce doesn’t understand how he could get so lucky. his life has been riddled with stress and misfortune and pain. bruce admits that he’s partially waiting for something to happen, to make all of this fall apart for real. there have been quite a few bumps already, some bigger than others, but after today? he feels dangerously hopeful. bruce may remember the majority of his drunken night with jerome, but nothing compares to sober jerome. drunk, they were both just in a hurry, ready to get to the point regardless of how clumsy and quick it would have to be. and it _was_ clumsy and quick, and bruce almost shivers at the memory of jerome that night, of how intoxicatingly warm it was. he was always so close, never truly detaching from bruce, and it was _incredible_. he’d never done anything with the same gender - well, returning the favor, that is. he’s had other male flings during his bad boy phase, but he was always too slurry to get anything done. he just let things happen. thinking back, it was distasteful, and a bit questionable of the boys who were so willing to take advantage of him. he knows, however, that that wasn’t the case with jerome. they’d had a spark since they met. the redhead admitted it himself, quite crudely saying ‘i've wanted to fuck you since you broke my damn nose’, if he recalls that correctly. it shocked him, despite feeling the connection every moment they were together. it was always tense, the air feeling electrically charged when they were in the same room. it _killed_ bruce. jerome had no problem teasing him, which made it so much worse. the little lingering touches, the suggestive text messages, the couch. _the couch_. god, the moment on the _couch_ haunted him for days, even after the party. jerome’s face with a shadow casted across it, his pupils drowning out the green in his eyes as they stare at his mouth, thumb dragging down his bottom lip. jesus, just remembering it has heat pooling uselessly in his stomach. his phone buzzes, his eyes opening as he lifts his phone up above his head so it’s in his line of vision.

 

- _i was joking. things are better now on my end of the city. hows ur part? mansion still in one giant piece?_ -

 

bruce smiles a little, but then frowns.

 

-i’m glad things are better. yes, it’s thankfully still one giant mansion. i talked to selina.-

 

he sends it, and then decides he should ask about jeremiah.

 

-should i wait for jeremiah to text me first?-

 

he hits send again, and realizes he sounds like a teenage girl with a boy crush asking his best friend for advice. his face gets a little warm, knowing jerome is probably laughing at that text for sure. he feels nervous when he sees the typing bubble. he hopes he isn’t mad about the selina thing being brought up.

 

- _i bet she said delightful things about me hm_ -

 

bruce’s mouth twitches into a deeper frown. he doesn’t want his friends to dislike each other. he’s not really sure friend is what he should call jerome, though he’s still a bit iffy on selina as well. before he can respond, jerome sends a second text.

 

- _id wait for miah. dont tell him i told u this but_ -

 

bruce’s heart starts to beat faster, as he freezes in anticipation. type faster.

 

- _he has a crush on u_ -

 

bruce closes his eyes and laughs, dropping his phone next to him. he’s still smiling when he picks it back up.

 

-i have a crush on him, too. i won’t tell if you don’t. but, i have to ask. does that mean he’s not upset about what happened?-

 

he bites his lip, waiting anxiously for a good answer. he remembers he never answered jerome about selina, so he types out his response to that.

 

-actually, she apologized. well, to me. she said if you two ever cross paths in the ‘thief lifestyle’, she’ll owe you a favor. and maybe keep the knife out of sight? it makes me a bit nervous to see now.-

 

he sends it, and waits. and waits. and waits. it says jerome read it, and he’s starting to wonder if maybe things _aren’t_ going to be okay between them. he stands up and slides off his sweater, picking out a loose t-shirt instead. he hears his phone buzz on the bed, and he practically jumps on it.

 

- _sorry was talkin to miah. no he isnt upset it happened. stop worryin so much u worry wart. i just shouldnt have left him alone after. i dont know what i was thinkin._ -

 

and bruce is hit by a wave of guilt, because jerome is very right. he only just realizes jeremiah probably needed some real aftercare, and reassurance, and definitely not time alone to _think_. he feels horrible, because it’s his fault. he should have timed things better. he should have just canceled the meeting, because he _can_ , and told alfred he’d be home for dinner.

 

-i’m sorry, i didn’t even think about it. i’m so used to just leaving, i guess. i’m sorry. is there anything i should do?-

 

he chews on his thumbnail, exiting jerome’s messages and opening jeremiah’s. bruce hesitates though. jerome told him to wait, so he should probably take that advice. jerome texts again.

 

- _fine ill let her owe me. deal is broken if she comes back. but dont worry i took care of miah. hes ok. he just got out of the shower and i think hes sleepy. he has his sleepy face on._ -

 

bruce absolutely melts at that, relieved that jerome is easing up on selina, and just imagining sleepy jeremiah has his heart in a choke-hold.

 

-thank you. and i hope he takes a nap and feels infinitely better.-

 

jerome reads it, but doesn’t start to reply. he lays down, and considers taking a nap himself. he lets his eyes fall closed, images of jeremiah’s soft eyes and jerome’s charming smile swirling around in his head. he hears the way jeremiah breathed out his name, the way jerome said such dirty things with no shame. he misses the feel of them around him already. his phone buzzes, and he’s hoping it’s a text from jerome. instead, he sees a snapchat from him. he curiously opens snapchat and clicks on it. if he thought his heart was in a choke-hold before, it’s nothing compared to how he feels now.

 

jerome sent him a picture, a selfie to be specific, though jerome is barely in it. he’s sitting up in his bed, a laptop visible at the bottom of the screen in his lap, but what catches his attention is jeremiah. he has his head on jerome’s shoulder, face pressed into his twin’s neck, jerome’s arm around his shoulders to hold him there. his stomach drops, though, when he makes out marks on jerome’s neck. he doesn’t think they are hickeys, because it’s long, it goes across the entire front of his neck. he doesn’t even know when that could have happened. before he can look closer, the image disappears forever from him. his stomach turns anxiously. did he miss something during their threesome? did something happen to cause that and he just didn’t notice? he’s unsure if he should bring it up or not. bruce thinks maybe it should wait. if they are still there in a few days, and jerome doesn’t bring it up, he will. he sends jerome a reply via text message

 

-and i thought your wallpaper on your phone was the cutest picture i’d ever seen. i stand corrected.-

 

he thinks back on the picture, of jeremiah’s face so soft and at peace for once, and jerome’s eyes lit up with fondness.

 

- _i have a lot of cute pictures of him on my phone. u have no clue how much of a bitch he is tho._ -

 

bruce scoffs, shaking his head, his mind starting to wonder what other hidden gems are on jerome's phone. didn't jeremiah mention his phone isn't locked? he puts the idea away for another time and focuses back on the other half of jerome's text. he thinks jeremiah is only like that to jerome, and that he _definitely_ has the attitude coming.

 

-you have all of that coming, jerome. you can’t be mouthy and expect everyone to be nice to you regardless.-

 

jerome’s response is immediate, and he settles into bed, having a feeling a steady conversation will be happening.

 

- _i can expect whatever i want_ -

 

he climbs under his covers, deciding it’s too late to change out of his slacks. he’s already comfy. his phone buzzes again.

 

- _and sometimes hes mean for no reason. he gets in these moods sometimes. i gotta leave him be for like a week straight until hes ready_ -

 

he furrows his eyebrows. he wonders if he will have to do the same when jeremiah gets like that. he’d like to know a little more about what that entails.

 

-what do you mean?-

 

jerome starts to type, when suddenly, there’s a knock on his door, making him jump, phone fumbling out of his hand. he groans at first, because he _just_ got comfortable in bed, but then he panics, knowing his neck is on display with two hickeys visible. alfred can’t see actual evidence of what he’s been doing.

 

“one moment, alfred!” he calls out, praying to god he listens as he jumps out of bed and picks up his sweater, pulling it on over his t-shirt. he probably looks like a rumpled mess, but at least his sex life isn’t being completely exposed. he swings open the door, a bit out of breath. “yes?” alfred eyes him up and down skeptically.

 

“just checking to make sure miss kyle left you alive, master b,” alfred drawls out, squinting at him. “she was rather livid when she showed up in the kitchen.” bruce smiles tightly.

 

“yes, we got into a bit of an argument,” he says vaguely. “nothing that hasn’t happened a hundred times before.” alfred smiles tightly back, peering into his room over his shoulder.

 

“did you enjoy lunch with her?” he continues conversationally. bruce swallows, not wanting to lie to him.

 

“not really, no,” he say honestly, because he didn’t even eat before jerome showed up. “just wish i knew what she wants from me.” and he doesn’t mean to be that honest, but alfred’s eyes turn sympathetic instead of suspicious.

 

“sadly, everyone wants something from you. you’re just extra special, aren’t you?” bruce frowns. “you’re bruce wayne. you have quite a lot to offer. although questioning what everyone may want from you is a tad negative, do keep that in mind with the people you meet, master bruce. also,  i've ordered the chinese food like you asked.” alfred bows a bit, and turns, taking his leave. the words strike him deeply, and he has a feeling alfred was meaning he should be cautious with jeremiah and jerome. he feels slightly bitter about it, because alfred doesn’t _know_ them, alfred doesn’t know how genuine they are, how _real_ they are. they don’t care that he’s rich or famous, they just think he’s fun to be around. well, jeremiah kind of cares, but in a business way rather than ‘give me your money’. they both treat him like a person. he lays back down in bed, sprawled out as the words repeat in his head. he doesn’t know why it hit a nerve, but it did. he can’t blame alfred, seeing as he’s never met jeremiah, and probably never will, and his only impression of jerome is that he slept with bruce while they were both drunk and hasn’t been back since. the man has no clue what’s going on. maybe bruce should tell him things. not everything, because he doesn’t have a death wish, but maybe more about them as people. he could also try to be more honest about when he’s with them and going to go see them. bruce remembers that he was texting jerome, and picks up his phone again. there are three new messages.

 

- _i just mean when he closes off from me. i dont know maybe he wont do that to u_ -

 

- _hes obviously very introverted so he needs time to like recharge? i guess. i dont know what thats like but i dont bother him. i try my best to understand him_ -

 

- _hes not normally affectionate either so try not to get used to the way hes been. hes probably gonna close off from the whole touching thing for a bit. its just what he does. dont take any of it personally. he does it to help himself not to be a dick_ -

 

bruce sighs, not at all surprised to hear that, but still worried about what he should do when that happens. he rereads them, taking in everything he said like he’s studying for a test.

 

-how do i know when he needs his space to recharge? what do i do?-

 

he taps his fingers anxiously, waiting for jerome to read it.

 

- _u dont know. u wont know until ur there with him. u can tell when he needs it. u can feel it_ -

 

- _well maybe u cant. i forget it isnt normal to feel others feelings. my bad_ -

 

bruce lets himself smile, forgetting that the twins can feel things like that. it’s intriguing, to say the least. he thought that was something made up for the drama in movies. or maybe they are just special.

 

-i can usually sense when he’s uncomfortable or uneasy by my presence. will that mean he’s trying to recharge and i’m pushing his boundaries?-

 

- _u can also tell by his tone of voice and his face. if its all blank and shit and his voice is robotic then he isnt feeling great and needs space_ -

 

well, that’s helpful to know. he’s so far never really heard the robotic voice, except for when bruce apologized about his parents being gone. jeremiah closed off more than he already was, and his voice went cold. it’s a subject he probably shouldn’t bring up.

 

-okay. i’ll watch for those signs when we work on the generators and in general. are there any other things i should be cautious about?-

 

- _what do u mean_ -

 

-like, are there things i shouldn’t do, ever?-

 

jerome takes a few seconds to respond this time.

 

- _dont sneak up on him. he hates that shit. and dont ever try to take control from him, mainly in this generator thing. if hes claiming control let him have it_ -

 

bruce nods to himself, remembering that jeremiah himself brought up not being snuck up on. those two things are easy enough to remember and to not do.

 

- _also dont buy him seafood. hes allergic._ -

 

and this time bruce could laugh, because of his thoughts earlier about shrimp, but instead he just sends a thumbs up emoji. he sets his phone down and stares at the ceiling, listening closely for alfred. it sounds like he’s in the kitchen. his clock says it’s three o’clock. he decides he should head down there and have some small talk with his guardian.

 

-

 

jerome sits his phone down and settles in, jeremiah’s hair making his shoulder damp and a little cold. but he can feel his warm little breaths on his neck, so he supposes that makes up for it. he’s not even playing a movie anymore, because there isn’t anything worth watching. he wonders how jeremiah got through the days where he didn’t have any new inventions or a phone to fuck around on. he wonders how often his twin gets lonely when he’s gone all day long. he hasn’t done that in a while, a couple weeks, maybe. do introverts get lonely? he types it into google on jeremiah’s laptop, hitting search.

 

**yes, introverts get lonely, too - but in a different way...**

**yes, even introverts who love being alone get lonely sometimes...**

 

**introverts and the loneliness loop...**

 

huh. apparently this is quite a common question. he scrolls down a little more and sees one that catches his eyes.

 

**5 tips to help introverts keep from becoming lonely.**

 

well, it can’t hurt to look, can it? he clicks it. he scrolls through, skipping the pointless text at the beginning. all of the tips are useless to his situation, considering jeremiah isn’t just an introvert, he’s an _agoraphobic_ introvert. he clicks out, wondering if he can think of anything on his own. but, another article catches his eye. the title is like all the others, but the small text below is is what he’s stuck on.

 

_...need true companionship, but sometimes that isn’t always people._

 

it suddenly clicks in his brain: jeremiah needs a pet. why hasn’t he thought of that before? he’s reminded of their not-so-nice history with animals, but they’ve both matured enough that he’s not that worried about it. looking back, jeremiah was always soft about cats. he refused to ever go near them with the intent to harm. he’d always feed the strays remains and let them crawl in his lap while he read a book or worked on a maze. cats are independent, and aren’t too terribly clingy or so highly energized that he would get annoyed with it. it would certainly lighten up jeremiah’s life significantly. he’s always wanted his own. but maybe starting off with a cat as a first pet is a bit excessive. maybe he should get something smaller and even more independent. a fish?

 

yeah. a fish sounds like a decent start.

 

jerome has no clue where to go to find one, seeing as he’s never had a reason to go to a pet shop. he picks up his phone and texts bruce again.

 

-do u know where i can buy a fish? not asking for any specific reason-

 

he waits for eleven seconds but gets nothing, so he sighs frustratedly and calls him instead. he wants to know. it rings three times before bruce answers.

 

“hello?” bruce asks, sounding concerned.

 

“you didn’t answer my text fast enough so i’m calling,” he explains quickly, but in a very quiet voice.

 

“is everything okay?” bruce asks, a muffled voice in the background.

 

“yeah, i just need to know if you know where any pet shops are.” he whispers. bruce is silent for a few seconds.

 

“a-a _pet shop_?” he asks skeptically. “jerome, what are you going to-“

 

“no, no,” he urgently interrupts. “i’m not robbing a _pet shop_. you really think i’d do that?” bruce lets out a relieved sigh into the phone, and he realizes that, yes, he _did_ think that. “wow. thank you. i wanted to buy miah a fish, _jerk-wad_.” bruce laughs gently, and it almost takes his breath away. _almost_. it _doesn’t_.

 

“a fish?” he asks happily. “does jeremiah want a fish all of a sudden?”

 

“no, i just wanna get him one,” he shrugs one-shouldered. “i worry he gets lonely, ya know? i thought it’d be nice to have a little companionship. or something.” bruce hums thoughtfully.

 

“well,” he drawls out. “only if i get to come help pick one out.”

 

“uh, _deal_ ,” he whispers excitedly. “when are you free?” he hears clanking, and bruce muttering something.

 

“we can go shop tomorrow, if you want,” bruce suggests excitedly. jerome smiles. “i’ll pay for all the extra stuff. you just pay for the fish. my half of the gift.” jerome scoffs.

 

“what, you think i can’t afford a fish bowl?”

 

“and the rocks, and a little fake plant, and preferably a filter with it so you don’t have to clean it as often. and food, and drops to make sure the water won’t hurt the fish-“

 

“ _okay_ , _jesus_ , you’re buyin’ all that shit,” he quietly laughs out, not realizing you needed that much for a fish.

 

“that’s what i thought,” bruce pauses, and jerome can tell he’s thinking something. “why not a cat? he’s always wanted one.” he feels his heart clench. jeremiah talked about his interest in cats with bruce at some point. that’s...an adorable sounding conversation, he can’t help but think. “jerome?”

 

“yeah, sorry, um,” he collects himself quickly. “i think we should start small before he gets a cat. he’s never had a real pet of his own that he’s had to take care of. figured a fish would be a good start.” he can hear the doubt in his voice.

 

“relax, jeremiah can handle a fish just fine,” bruce reassures him. “is he still asleep? you’ve been whispering.”

 

“yeah,” he looks down at jeremiah, who is out cold. “he’s practically dead on my shoulder.” bruce laughs a little again, and _wow_ , he’ll never get tired of it. “his wet hair is making my shoulder cold.”

 

“you’ll probably be stuck there all night with a damp shoulder,” jerome sighs heavily, letting his head hit the wall behind him. “he’ll wake enough to move around eventually. what were you doing?” bruce asks conversationally.

 

“we were watching a movie, kinda,” he answers, closing out of google. “but he was out immediately, which i expected.” bruce hums. “what are you up to? what do rich people do at three in the afternoon?”

 

“um, eat chinese food that we ordered, i suppose,” and jerome purses his lips, feeling a small twist of discomforting guilt.

 

“oh, uh, i’m probably interrupting your dinner with alfred, huh?” he says, feeling awkward, and wondering if the conversation sounds weird one-sided.

 

“you’re fine, jerome,” bruce says, reassuring him for what feels like the tenth time. “do you have dinner plans, or are you sleeping through it?”

 

“i, uh, don’t think i get a say in that,” he closes the laptop, room going dark despite the small lamp he has on his dresser across the room. “but that’s fine. i don’t mind bein’ here.” bruce stays silent. jerome doesn’t try to fill it. he waits.

 

“i hate to say this out-loud, where someone other than me can hear it,” and he thinks he means not only him, but alfred hearing it. “but i think i miss you. i hate it.” jerome can’t help the laugh that slips out, and he quickly quiets himself.

 

“what can i say, i have an addicting personality!” he say cockily.

 

“you are such a narcissist, jerome.”

 

“miah reminds me three times a day.” things go silent again, and can feel bruce hesitating.

 

“hey, jerome?” he asks quietly.

 

“hm?”

 

“what’s your favorite color?” he blinks.

 

“red. what’s yours?”

 

“black.”

 

“of course it is.”

 

“what’s your middle name?” jerome smiles.

 

they fall into back and forth questions, getting little facts from each other that are totally pointless and not at all useful. he learns that bruce likes to go to the very top of buildings and look out across gotham, and he shared that he rode an elephant once, but it’s a long story, to which bruce had incredulously exclaimed “an _elephant_?!”. he also learns bruce likes caramel macchiatos, and switches between having them iced or hot depending on the weather. jerome shares that he _strongly_ dislikes soup, that he thinks it’s a poor excuse for a food, and it shouldn’t exist. bruce doesn’t like peaches, or the color purple, or being used. but he _does_ like oranges, and he says he has no allergies ( _yet_ ), and he likes his garden a lot because it reminds him of his mother. jerome doesn’t share much in return at that point, the mentioning of a mother turning him a bit sour by accident. bruce doesn’t seem to mind and easily steers away from it. but then, he feels jeremiah’s head shift, his twin breathing in deeply as he starts to become aware of his surroundings.

 

“oh, good morning, sunshine,” he says cheerily.

 

“shut up.” jeremiah grumbles back, head lifting off his shoulder.

 

“ah, yes, lovely as usual,” he moves his attention back to bruce. “he’s finally awakened a little.”

 

“i heard,” bruce says around a laugh.

 

“who’re you talkin’ to?” his twin mumbles, chin resting on his shoulder.

 

“bruce,” he says, moving the phone to jeremiah’s ear. “say hi!” he says loudly.

 

“hi, bruce,” jeremiah says softly. he hears bruce respond, and puts the phone back to his own ear.

 

“he’s a delight when he wakes up, but i think i mentioned that to you before. hey, i should probably go, though.” jerome says a bit sadly.

 

“yes, you should,” bruce agrees just as reluctantly. “what time tomorrow?”

 

“uhhh, just come by the house and pick me up,” he says, praying jeremiah doesn’t push the subject too much after he hangs up.

 

“okay. i can’t wait,” bruce say, calm and collected. “i’ll text when i’m there.”

 

“yeah, sounds good.” he says. he doesn’t know what to say now, though. he supposes goodbye. “bye, bruce. don’t miss me too much.”

 

“bye, jerome.” bruce says, the smile clear in his voice. jerome hangs up, seeing that it’s now four o’clock, and that they talked for almost an hour. was it really that long?

 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” jeremiah asks curiously. jerome breathes in deeply.

 

“shoppin’.” he answers vaguely. “can we lay down now? my back is sore. also, i’d like to change my shirt to a dry one.” jeremiah looks down at his shoulder a bit guiltily before moving away a little and flopping down on his bed. jerome hops up and takes off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. he can feel jeremiah judging him for it. he snatches a random one from off a hanger and slides it on. he turns to find jeremiah is watching him with a weird expression. jerome slowly crawls back into his bed, jeremiah never truly looking away from him. when he settles in, he’s facing his twin, their breathing soft as they lay in comfortable silence.

 

“i’m sorry i tried to...,” jeremiah suddenly says, swallowing hard, eyes looking into his own intensely. “i could never do it.” jerome smiles a little.

 

“i could never do it, either.” he admits just as quietly. “lets try to move on from this, okay? like i said, i had that coming. and now we’re even, so.” his twin looks at him a bit disapprovingly, but nods in agreement. he touches jeremiah’s cheek lightly with a soft smile, when his twin scoots in closer. “wanna go back to sleep for a bit longer? you know i’m always down for sleeping.” jeremiah nods, his eyes looking heavy as he scoots in just a little closer, and he feels fingers grab at his under the blanket. he lets jeremiah hold on as they drift to sleep.

 

-

 

“that sounded like a lovely conversation, master bruce,” alfred says, walking into the kitchen where bruce sits.

 

“yes, thank you for eavesdropping and making sure it was,” he says with a small smile, not actually upset. alfred smiles hesitantly back.

 

“well, i figured it wouldn’t hurt to listen and see if i could find anything out about the lad,” his guardian says, picking up bruce’s take-out boxes and turning to throw them away. he tilts his head curiously at the statement.

 

“do you actually want to know things about him, or are you just trying to catch me doing things i shouldn’t?” he asks, half joking. alfred holds his hands behind his back, the kitchen island between them.

 

“a little of both, i suppose,” he answers honestly. “a pet shop, aye?” bruce nods. “this brother of his must not get out much.” he furrows his eyebrows, not sure if that was an insult to jeremiah or not.

 

“no, he can’t,” he answers cautiously, unsure where the conversation is going. “but my father was willing to work with him regardless, and so am i.”

 

“right, of course,” alfred nods. “i’m not judging the man. simply observing. i know close to nothing about these men you have been spending time with, is all.”

 

“i’d be happy to fill you in a little, if you’d like,” he offers kindly, wanting alfred to feel at ease with his decision to see them. alfred’s opinion means the world to him.

 

“well, seeing as i’ve only met the one, on two circumstances, i would like to know more about him,” _two?_ “like what he does for a living, does he drive a car he _owns_ , how old he is, things of the sort.” alfred’s smile is a bit sarcastic feeling, but bruce stays collected, not wanting an argument, but knowing one will probably happen. he decides to be honest.

 

“he’s a necessity thief, like selina,” alfred frowns. “he owns his own car, and always wears a seat-belt, believe it or not. he’s twenty-one, and he treats me like a real person. i think that’s part of what i like most about them.”

 

“like a person?” alfred asks, sounding genuinely interested. “how else would he treat you, bruce?” he sighs, looking away.

 

“like a billionaire,” he says solemnly. “like a boy who’s parents were killed in front of him. like a useless kid.” he notices alfred’s posture soften a little, shoulders less tense. “and jeremiah is the kind of man who is genuine. he loves inventing. he doesn’t care about the money. he just wants to _create_. and i respect that _immensely_. and jerome,” and shakes his head. “he doesn’t hold his tongue with me, and isn’t afraid to call me out when i’m being ridiculous. kind of like selina is, but in a friendlier way.” alfred hums bitterly at the mention of her. “they’re the first people i’ve met in a while that just enjoy spending time with me because they like _me_.” he finishes strongly, giving away how much they mean to him already, and it’s almost embarrassing. alfred eyes him like he’s considering something, and unclasps his hands to sit them on the island, making it feel more personal.

 

“i’m asking as someone who genuinely loves you,” alfred starts off quietly. “how much do you know about them? are you safe with them?” bruce frowns, but understands his guardian's concerns.

 

“their home is probably the safest place in gotham, trust me,” bruce says, despite alfred being unaware of just how heavily protected it is. “i know enough, and we have a lot in common, mostly when it comes to tragedies, unfortunately.” alfred squints at him.

 

“i think i should mention this, just to throw it out there,” alfred straightens up, and bruce feels weirdly nervous. “i let jerome out on your birthday, after he left your bedroom, where you two were taking a _nap_ together, i’m sure,” he drawls sarcastically, and bruce wants to smash his head into the island from embarrassment. “he said something to me that i just can’t shake.” bruce furrows his eyebrows, waiting a bit anxiously. “he said, ‘me and my brother are more alike than bruce thinks’. he said it rather darkly, i might add. it rubbed me the wrong way, as you can imagine.” but bruce doesn’t really understand the context, or why jerome would say that. “he asked me how i knew about his brother, and i guess he had forgotten that earlier that day you introduced him to me as ‘jeremiah’s brother’. i told him that you informed me of his work with wayne enterprises, and that he wasn’t the same valeska fellow who tried to mug you. that was his response to that. take it as you will, master bruce. but i do advise a little caution.”

 

“yes.” he replies a bit blankly. “noted, alfred. thank you.” he watches as alfred hesitates before leaving again, and bruce takes in everything that just happened. to be fair, jerome was drunk, and probably couldn’t remember much of anything.he probably didn’t even really know what he was saying. but jerome and jeremiah are very different. different style, taste, energy, way of talking. they are _different_. but what did jerome mean? what more does he still need to learn about them? bruce knows everyone has darkness inside of them. he knows they had a rough childhood, and jeremiah has been affected tremendously from it, and jerome copes in his own ways. it’s not like he can ask jerome what he meant, because he doesn’t remember anything from that night.

 

the only thing bruce can do is be patient.

 

-

 

jerome feels gentle fingers on his neck, stirring him awake a little. he groans, and the fingers disappear, leaving the area cold for some reason. he takes a deep breath, scooting into the warmth in front of him, arm tightening around what his sleep-muddled brain says is jeremiah’s waist. “you okay?” he mumbles out. his twin stays silent, but he can feel he is close to saying something.

 

“it all came back to me,” jeremiah speaks into the silence blankly. “after you and bruce left, i was happy. i felt great, like i was still high, or something. but then i-i just remembered how hard it was to stop,” jerome scrunches up his face in confusion, eyes still closed. “i wanted to keep choking him, jerome. i didn’t want to stop. i wasn’t going to,” he opens his eyes at that, listening much more intently now as his twin finally confesses to him. the lamp catches his blank face, eyes looking at him coldly, but pleadingly at the same time. he doesn’t know what to do with that look. “but you told me to, and it was like i woke up. i felt stuck there, hand around his throat, like i was in a trance. is that how _you_ felt?” jerome takes in a long, deep breath, mind not functioning enough for this.

 

“yeah, it is,” he admits, voice still rough from sleep and the harsh treatment his vocal cords received not too long ago. “don’t worry about it. it was the same for me. it’s thrilling, and gets your adrenaline going. makes it hard to quit until you, i don’t know, find a way to completion, i guess. if that makes any sense.” he watches jeremiah nod a little, eyes lowering to his neck again.

 

“after i started thinking about it, i didn’t feel panic, or fear. i just felt...nothing.” jeremiah continues. “and i started thinking back to you, and i started feeling something scarily close to resentment, i think,” and oh, it feels like a punch in the gut to hear that. “but i don’t think i really meant it. just in the moment. i was reliving the past. i was stuck in it. and when you came home, it didn’t feel like me. i just felt...it’s hard to put into words, i suppose.” but jerome gets it.

 

“i know what you mean,” he reassures him. “that was also how i felt. trust me, you’re fine.” but jeremiah’s eyes don’t lift from his neck. “we’re even. we balanced shit out. we both went into a weird, murderous trance, tried to choke each other out, but stopped. so lets both move on from it, and avoid choking altogether.” jerome attempts to persuade his twin lightheartedly, hoping that they can let all of this go, and leave it in the past.

 

“is that all it takes to move on?” jeremiah asks quietly, eyes finally meeting his. “make things even? balance it all out?” jerome purses his lips, trying to read deeper into what his twin is asking. he shifts a little in the bed, focusing on any feeling seeping through that might be jeremiah’s. he only feels warmth and curiosity. it doesn’t make sense to him.

 

“what’s on your mind, miah?” he asks just as curiously, squinting at him in the barely lit room. “what else are you feeling bad about that needs balanced? or is there something _i_ feel bad about that needs balanced?” jeremiah’s eyes flit over his face, suddenly looking embarrassed.

 

“there’s a few things i feel bad about that wouldn’t hurt to have evened out, but, um, it isn’t,” his twin starts to admit, when jerome feels fingers curl into his shirt over his chest. “it’s not something that can be-it isn’t necessary. it doesn’t matter. do you have something to balance out? think about it.” jeremiah deflects smoothly, and he can tell that his twin genuinely doesn’t know what jerome would balance out due to his own guilt or discomfort. jerome isn’t sure either. but he has a few suspicious ideas of what jeremiah feels weird about still.

 

“ _i_ feel bad that _you_ feel bad about kissing me drunk,” he instead says, knowing it’s something on his twin’s mind. jeremiah’s eyes widen a little. “how can we balance that out?” his twin’s cheeks look like they might be tinted pink, but the lighting isn’t good enough to tell. “how about, the next time i’m drunk, i have to kiss you the same way you kissed me. an awkward, two second, barely-should-be-considered-a-kiss kiss. would that make it better?” jeremiah seems to flounder for something to say, and he feels a smile tug at his lips because it feels like miah again.

 

“i’ll never want to be around you drunk again, because i’ll be freaking out about whether or not you’ll remember and kiss me,” jeremiah admits, voice giving away how nervous it makes him. jerome starts to rethink it.

 

“well, to be fair, i didn’t see it coming, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, still trying to think of a way to make it a surprise. he gets an idea. “i just won’t be drunk, then. i could be high, i could be sleepy, i could have not had sugar the entire day, anything that makes my judgement a little iffy.”

 

“you’re judgement is pretty much always iffy, jerome,” and he laughs at that.

 

“yeah, that’s kinda the point, right? you won’t know, and hell, i probably won’t either until the very moment i do it,” he says flippantly, smiling happily. “and then you never have to feel weird or bad about it again, because i did the same thing! balancing shit out. i think it works.” jeremiah looks at him like he’s a little crazy, but nods anyway.

 

“fine, if-if that-if you think it will actually help, then fine,” jerome nods in agreement. “okay.” jeremiah looks at him in disbelief.

 

“what else should i feel bad enough about to fix? or you, since that’s basically what i’m aiming for.” jerome watches in fascination as jeremiah definitely blushes, visible even in the dark room, eyes focused intensely on his own.

 

“um, not anything-it isn’t my business, so it doesn’t-it’s nothing actually important, just a weird-weird thought. don’t worry about it. i’m sure there’s something that you feel bad about-“

 

“come on, i gotta know what it is, especially if it’s making you blush and fumble like this. i’m painfully curious,” jeremiah averts his gaze now, clearing his throat. but jerome thinks of something suddenly, something he does feel a little bad about. he slides his hand from where it rests warmly and comfortably on jeremiah’s middle back to his waist, thumb stroking against the bottom of his rib cage gently. “hey, uh, i thought of something,” he says, choosing to be a little more serious. jeremiah furrows his eyebrows and waits for him to continue. “i feel a little weird for not really asking for permission to, uh,” he pauses, not sure how to word it without being awkward. “be touchy with you today.” jerome finishes lamely, knowing he should have just said it and been awkward, because _that_ kind of awkward would have been better than the ‘i’m obviously avoiding what i mean and therefore being incredibly out of character for avoiding a sexual subject which i’m usually comfortably blunt about’ kind of awkward. jeremiah’s eyes widen again, taking a few seconds to get what he means, body going a bit tense under his hand. “which, you know, we can’t really balance that out, but i thought i’d bring it up anyway.”

 

“oh. um,” jeremiah starts off, obviously feeling awkward now as well due to jerome’s awkward way of putting it. “i, um,” but jerome can’t stand it, and he has to interrupt.

 

“like, i gave a really, _really_ vague warning, that i was gonna try something out, but-but i guess i could have, like, asked, right?” jerome manages to get the words out, studying jeremiah’s face the best he can. he feels embarrassment swarming around in his chest, and thinks it’s probably both of them. “if it made you uncomfortable to have me be-be that intimate with you, in front of bruce, or at all, i guess, please tell me,” jeremiah looks up at him again, blinking a few times. “so i know to not do that again.” jerome feels a little less awkward now that he’s just talking, but jeremiah still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

 

“what, um, what do you consider as intimate?” jeremiah eventually asks slowly, eyeing him cautiously. jerome squints at him.

 

“what kind of question is _that_?” he asks, but jeremiah deflates, eyes shuttering a bit, so jerome quickly backtracks. “i just mean-i don’t understand the question.” jeremiah is still closed off, and he feels like shit for always being such an ass. he doesn’t realize it until it’s already happened. “i just figured all of it was intimate for you in general. add on me being, ya know, pretty physically intimate with you, and-yeah.” jeremiah squirms slightly but stays silent. when he speaks, it’s another question.

 

“what did you mean by ‘try something out’?” jeremiah’s voice is quiet, as if he’s afraid of asking. jerome ponders his answer carefully.

 

“i wanted to see how bruce would react.” he answers simply, jeremiah’s eyes snapping up to meet his, seeming to not expect that answer.

 

“do you...do you think he,” jeremiah shakes his head a little, face scrunching up in confusion. “likes to watch...us?” he squeaks out, not sounding very sure of what he’s saying, as if it’s impossible. jerome snickers.

 

“ _think_?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve _known_. but i wanted to see how much he liked it when we _really_ interacted.” jeremiah’s eyes grow wider, seeming more shocked by that answer than the last, which jerome can’t quite understand. “wait, you really haven’t noticed anything? even during?”

 

“no, i-“ he stops, shaking his head again. “what-can you explain why you think that?” jerome turns his head to look up at the ceiling, thinking back on everything.

 

“well, i admit, it started off innocently enough,” jerome begins. “bruce likes watching us interact. he knows what we are like separately, and we are very different with each other than with other people.” he shifts his gaze back to his twin, who looks confused still. “i mean, i’m all _soft_ , or whatever, with you. i don’t know, i don’t treat you the way i treat everyone else. and you certainly don’t treat me the same either, considering you knew nobody else.” jeremiah’s face softens into understanding. “i think it intrigued him. and uh, things took a turn after the whole car incident, where i was high and my judgement was iffy, like usual.” jeremiah seems to steel himself, preparing for something horrible to come out of his mouth, and he can’t really blame him for that. “we got on the topic of you, cause i was dressed like you, and bruce liked it, like, _really_ liked it, and words started coming out, and i may have implied some things-“

 

“oh my god, what did you say?” jeremiah breathes, air rushing out of him, looking as if he already knows where this is going. jerome smiles and cringes at the same time.

 

“look, i didn’t actually say much before, uh, we got home,” he fibs slightly, not wanting jeremiah to know his phone call actually interrupted _them_ in the car. he’d know he picked up bruce before he was asked to. “i just-it was a very, very slight insinuation, is all.” jeremiah stares at him, expecting him to go on.

 

“which was?” his twin asks harshly. jerome purses his lips, tapping his index finger on his ribs.

 

“well, i was saying, to sum it up, that i wanted you two to bang,” jeremiah’s eyes close, a sigh escaping him. “and uh, sorry, this is really awkward to say out-loud now that i’m not high and horny, but i said i wanted you to show him what you were capable of doing to him,” jeremiah’s eyes slowly open when jerome pauses. “what i, uh, _knew_ you were capable of doing to him.” his twin stares at him blankly for a few seconds, before his head tilts a little on the pillow, mouth opening as his eyebrows scrunch together. no words come out though, so jerome feels compelled to continue, to fill the silence. “which, funnily enough, almost killed the kid-like, he seriously looked like he was going to die after i said it. jesus, miah, you shoulda seen the look on his face-but that, uh, still, you know. uh. that’s why he probably didn’t get that you’d never done it before. i think he really believed that we-“

 

“ _you implied that me and you are-have-_ “ jeremiah interrupts in an angry whisper, like someone will hear him say it. “jerome, what the _hell_?!” he hits him in chest, jerome letting out a noise of surprised pain.

 

“hey, i was _high_ -“

 

“yeah, and you were _drunk_ when you slept with him, but i’m finding that it doesn’t matter when it comes to you! you make iffy decisions _all the time_!” his twin grits out. jerome makes an offended expression.

 

“and _you_ made an iffy decision while drunk, but i don’t hold it against _you_!” jerome angrily whispers back, matching jeremiah’s tone. his twin makes his own offended expression this time.

 

“that was _different_.”

 

“ _how_?” jeremiah almost laughs, eyes lit up. jerome probably looks the same.

 

“i kissed you out of drunk desperation and depression,” jeremiah says, the word _desperation_ catching jerome’s attention. “what’s your excuse for making bruce think we-we-“

 

“desperation and horniness.” jerome says with a smile, still whispering harshly. “and morbid curiosity. that’s why i implied that we have fucked, okay? but it’s not a big deal-“

 

“ _not a big deal?_ ” jeremiah’s voice goes up in pitch as he sits up, hovering a little more above him now. “jerome, we aren’t-we have _never_ done that, and now bruce is probably-i don’t know. expectant? what the hell are we supposed to do, huh?”

 

“i don’t _know_ , okay?” he says, giving in. “it’s not like i was thinking, jeremiah.” his twin sighs exasperatedly, sitting up completely now with his back to jerome. he can see the tension in his body, and he feels his own anger start to drain out of him. he sighs, too. “i get it, alright? but i doubt he is really expecting us to fuck in front of him or anything.” jeremiah groans.

 

“he probably thinks we’re freaks, that we’re fucked up, jerome.” jeremiah says with a sort of ferocious sadness.

 

“did you not hear the part where i said he loved it?” jeremiah is shaking his head, but in a way of disbelief. “did you see him while we were all together?” jeremiah still doesn’t say anything. “didn’t you see his face after you begged me to take control? he looked right at you, at _us_. you _couldn’t_ have missed it.” jerome says strongly, because bruce’s face was obvious, so open, and jeremiah looked right at him. but his twin sighs, and flops back down next to him, eyes closed.

 

“i did, but i didn’t think-“ jeremiah starts to admit softly, but doesn’t continue. jerome understands it anyway.

 

“there are plenty of other examples,” jerome says. “like when i bit you the first time, and he moaned,” jeremiah takes a deep breath. “and when i started kissing your neck and shit, he couldn’t look away, miah. bruce couldn’t take his eyes off of _us_. he didn’t want to miss a single moment of _us_. but,” he holds a hand up in a weird gesture. “i was experimenting and i didn’t really have consent, so i won’t be pushing that again-“

 

“do you think he’d ask us to do stuff?” jeremiah interrupts him softly. jerome blinks, brain catching up slowly.

 

“no, i don’t think he’d be brave enough to ask.” he says honestly. jeremiah turns his head to look at him curiously.

 

“why not?” jerome takes a moment to figure out how to phrase it.

 

“because he isn’t us,” he says. his twin tilts his head. “sure, we know how we feel and how we are, and it’s easy for us to talk about it and shit. but imagine being in bruce’s position. do you think you could ask two brothers to make-out?” jeremiah makes a noise of understanding, looking back at the ceiling. “but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want that. but again, i’m not gonna push that anymore.” they both stay quiet for a few moments. jeremiah is the one to break the silence.

 

“would you do it?” he asks calmly. jerome shrugs.

 

“not if you wouldn’t.” jeremiah scoffs.

 

“that’s hardly an answer, j.”

 

“i mean, kissing isn’t a big deal to me, you know that. i’d do it,” jeremiah looks at him taken aback. “but if you don’t want to, i’m not gonna do it. simple as that, really.” but thinking about kissing jeremiah, in front of bruce, manages to get his heart beating a little faster. he thinks the kid would actually have a real heart attack if they went that far. his twin looks at him thoughtfully.

 

“i don’t think i could do it,” he admits kind of sadly.

 

“and there’s nothing wrong with that.” he says lightly, ignoring the heavy disappointment. he just really wants to see bruce’s face. that’s all.

 

“i just,” jeremiah mumbles. “having our first kiss in- _no_ , i didn’t- _god_ , that isn’t what i _mean_ ,” jeremiah stutters, eyes squeezing shut in what must be embarrassment. jerome chuckles and pats his arm a little, ignoring the way his heart leaps.

 

“you’re fine,” he reassures him gently. “what do you mean?” he manages to not ask it harshly like a douche-bag this time. jeremiah lets out a shaky breath.

 

“i mean, having our first kiss, in front of bruce, in a highly sexual situation, just going for it despite _never_ having done it before,” jeremiah shakes his head, eyes reopening. “what if it’s horribly awkward, and uncomfortable, and we _really_ don’t like it, and we are with _bruce_ , and it just-“

 

“it would be a very big, awkward, mood killer.” jerome finishes the thought for him with a grimace. jeremiah sighs heavily.

 

“yeah, exactly. i don’t think i could do it.”

 

“that...actually makes sense.” jerome agrees slowly. “ _but,_ despite your brain pointing out a real concern, there is an easy solution to that.” he looks at his twin, who looks at him confused and skeptical. “a practice run. just me and you.” jeremiah looks confused, in a way that screams ‘why hadn’t i thought of that?’, but then surprise takes over fairly quickly, making jerome chuckle.

 

“oh.” is all jeremiah manages to say, so jerome keeps talking, sitting up on an elbow.

 

“look, it’s just a suggestion,” he says, voice serious despite his small smile. “just throwin’ it out there. if we _do_ try it, then you would at least be able to make a confident decision when it comes to what you’re comfortable with doing in front of bruce.” he explains. jeremiah’s eyes flit around his chest area thoughtfully, but in a scared kind of way. “if it’s horrible, then we know to never do it. if it’s okay, then we know we could try it out with bruce. granted, he’d love it, but still. you’d know for sure. i want you to be comfortable with the stuff you choose to do. since you were kinda forced into _our_ kinks the first time, i think you deserve to explore your own wants a little. i mean, i’m not trying to say _i’m_ what you want, or anything,” and _wow_ , he just _had_ to fucking say that, didn’t he? “but in general, you know? yeah. so. just think about it.” jeremiah looks at him seriously, ignoring the awkward ending. a few seconds go by in silence.  


 

“you never answered me.” jerome states softly, not wanting to disturb the silence too much for once. jeremiah looks up at him with wide eyes, not recalling his question. he supposes he didn’t really ask one. “did it make you uncomfortable? me being like that with you?” his twin looks down again, continuing to mess with his shirt. he so badly wants to touch something. his cheeks, his hair, his waist. he doesn’t.

 

“it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” jeremiah eventually answers quietly. “it was just a bit surprising.” jerome feels a wave of relief, and jeremiah must feel it as well. “is it something you’d do again? even if-even if i don’t feel comfortable actually, um, doing more?” jeremiah asks shakily. jerome isn’t sure exactly what he’s trying to ask.

 

“you mean like, doing what i did today again?” jeremiah nods meekly, way too focused on playing with jerome’s shirt now. he can tell the conversation is making his twin uncomfortable despite him wanting to have it. “even if you don’t want to go further than me kissing on your neck and being a little touchy in appropriate places, that’s fine. like i said, i won’t push it. if that’s all you want to do, even if kissing me doesn’t turn out awkward, _great_. if you don’t even want me to do that stuff, fine.”

 

“i do,” jeremiah whispers. “i want that, at least. i know that.” his twin looks up at him finally, gaze warm and sure for once. jerome nods silently, not sure what to say to that. jeremiah lowers his eyes again, seeming distressed still over something. “you didn’t even-“ he starts to say, but cuts himself off, seeming to catch himself from blurting something out. jerome smiles.

 

“i didn’t what?” jerome asks, watching jeremiah’s cheeks darken again underneath him.

 

“oh, um, it’s nothing, i just-um,” he quickly says, an obvious lie, an obvious avoidance. jerome looks at him unimpressed.

 

“why don’t you just tell me what’s apparently been bothering you this entire conversation?” jeremiah rolls his eyes, but takes a deep breath, eyes focused on his chest area again.

 

“you didn’t cum today.” jeremiah says, and _shit_ , it kind of knocks the air out of jerome, his own eyes widening a little, face heating up. but his twin shakes his head a little, swallowing. “i-sorry, i don’t know _why_ i said it like that-“

 

“no,” jerome says a bit too quickly. “uh, it’s okay. i mean, that i didn’t. it doesn’t bother me. has that been bothering you?” jeremiah keeps his gaze lowered.

 

“it’s not fair to you.” jeremiah argues, cheeks still very dark. jerome wants to touch them, wants to touch jeremiah. he resists the urge.

 

“why’s that?” he practically whispers, though he isn’t really sure why.

 

“you’re the one who initiated it for all for us, and guided us, and kept things going,” jeremiah says strongly. “and you didn’t get anything in return for that.” he finishes weakly, though.

 

“yeah i did,” jerome corrects gently. “i got jerk-off material that will last a lifetime.” jeremiah huffs, a smile sneaking it’s way onto his twin’s face, making him smile, too.

 

“you’re insufferable, you know that?” jerome hums, laying back down, probably ending up a little too close to jeremiah, but neither seem to mind. they both fall silent again, though jerome’s heart is beating a little louder than before. his breathing feels too loud, too. jeremiah is pulling at his shirt with his thumb and index finger, lost in his own thoughts. jerome just wishes he would always be this open with him. this honest with him. he supposes he was as close to complete vulnerability as it gets with jerome today. now, he doesn’t know where to go, jeremiah’s words repeating in his head, never hearing him use such a vulgar word. it’s a natural word for jerome, sure, but hearing _him_ say it? he couldn’t get him to say it earlier to bruce. he wonders why his twin could say it now. jeremiah’s cheeks are still red, and when he stops paying so much attention to himself, he can hear that jeremiah’s breathing seems loud, too. it isn’t just him, then. “i could leave, you know.” jerome doesn’t understand why he says it, or why he would leave.

 

“why?” he decides to ask, voice giving away how confused he is. jeremiah doesn’t say anything, but when jerome gets a very familiar warm feeling low in his stomach, he realizes quite suddenly what jeremiah is suggesting. “oh. no, uh, i’m-you don’t need to do that.” jerome fumbles, like a complete idiot. he feels his face get warm, because jeremiah is basically giving him permission to _masturbate_ , while he sits in another room, all the while knowing what he’s doing, and _wow_ , what the fuck is going on today?

 

“let me rephrase what i said, then,” jeremiah says, voice somewhat coy, sending weird spark through him. “i’m going to leave you alone, and i’m going to go maybe eat something, with my laptop. okay?” his fingers stop pulling at his shirt, which means all tethers between them have been broken, and jeremiah is actually going to leave-

 

“you don’t need to leave,” jerome quickly says when jeremiah starts to roll away. his twin pauses, but doesn’t look at him. the warmth low in his stomach gets warmer, to the point of just being straight up heat. it's unbearable.  


 

“you deserve something today.” jeremiah states firmly, his mind already made up. jerome swallows, already sinking back into the bed. he wraps his fingers around jeremiah’s wrist, his skin warm to the touch.

 

“okay,” he finally agrees quietly. “fine. if that will make you feel better.” jeremiah freezes under him.

 

“no this-this isn’t about _me_ , it’s for _you_ ,” but jerome just kind of chuckles at that.

 

“miah, i masturbate plenty, i can live a night without it-“

 

“but with your failed hookup and not getting anything out of our-our threesome, you should want to.” jeremiah says, seeming confused. jerome smiles, wishing his twin was looking at him.

 

“i’d be okay waiting until next time for someone to take care of me,” he says, voice taking on a suggestive tone. “as much as i love myself, i’ll wait.” jeremiah finally does look at him-but it wasn’t what jerome had in mind. he looks up at jerome through his lashes, gaze far too heated for his own good, and jerome’s breath catches. thank god it wasn’t audible.

 

“just ‘someone’?” jeremiah asks, voice just as warm as literally everything else in this damn room. “why not say bruce, j?” he sounds almost cocky, but mostly falsely curious, something he’s never heard from jeremiah before, and he really can’t keep up with all of these different versions of his twin coming out in one fucking day. he supposes it’s his personality peeking through. jeremiah doesn’t show much personality. maybe sex could be good for him, minus the violent kinks. jerome swallows.

 

“never know, bruce might be an open fellow,” he dodges, knowing full well what jeremiah was implying that he was implying. “might need to bang someone for a job. or let them blow me.” jeremiah breathes out shakily, all traces of cockiness disappearing as his eyes flutter a little. jerome decides it's a far too attractive expression. he should try to mimic for future personas. “think bruce will let me fuck other people for business? i won’t intentionally look for hook ups anymore, of course. strictly business.” jeremiah squints suspiciously.

 

“you realize you sound like a prostitute, right?” jerome laughs, hand tightening around jeremiah’s wrist.

 

“i am, except they don’t know they’re paying me. that’s the best part!” jerome jokes around the strange pull of arousal. “nah, i’m not sure he wants me sleeping with other people.” jeremiah hums in strong agreement, rolling in a little closer, the space around him getting warmer with jeremiah's body heat.

 

“he’d get jealous, and brood about it until you apologize. but you’re a stubborn ass who would never do it.” jerome grins at him, watching jeremiah's eyes flick down to it quickly.  


 

“aw, you know us so well. well, actually,” he starts to correct. “he isn’t jealous of _you_ , or vice versa. he’s perfectly fine if we were banging, but _god forbid_ i bang someone for some cash and bling.” he’s only half joking, but realizes maybe he shouldn’t joke about them yet, maybe it’s too early for that. but jeremiah’s eyes grow a little darker, and linger on his mouth, and jerome's eye get caught, too, when jeremiah bites his lip. but then, he’s rolling away again, with the intention of leaving him alone. jerome keeps a grip on his wrist regardless.

 

“i’m going to leave anyway,” jeremiah confirms his thoughts out-loud, clearing his throat. “do with that what you will, j. i hope you decide to use it wisely, yeah?” jeremiah spares him one last glance over his shoulder, jerome’s hand letting go as his twin slips out of the room like a ghost. like a fever dream ghost. he’s not really sure what any of that interaction was. this has been the strangest day of his entire fucking life.

 

jerome likes this.

 

he can’t ignore the arousal, because now that he’s got the idea planted, it grows like a weed in his brain. he touches himself to thoughts of bruce’s mouth, bruce’s warmth, bruce’s pretty face, pretty cock, the pretty noises, and finds himself stuck on the vision of jeremiah and bruce, because it’s almost like watching himself with bruce, but _better_ , because it’s _jeremiah_. when he finally cums for the first time after the long day, he’s whispering blasphemous words while thinking ( _and remembering_ ) blasphemous things about the only two people he thinks he could ever enjoy ever again. jerome lays there after, and remembers that his twin could feel it all, could feel the ending just like jerome felt his earlier that day. he attempts to send gratitude through their sixth sense. he rolls over and goes to sleep again, managing to not have a weird, twisted dream this time.  


 

in the next room, jeremiah does the same, body buzzing with jerome’s orgasm and the knowledge that he was most likely a huge part in it this time. he lays his laptop on the floor and rolls over, attempting to go back to sleep again. jeremiah can’t believe this has all happened in a day. he thinks he’ll be deathly exhausted, if not dead, by the time the week is up. emotionally and physically. he falls asleep, dreaming that he has four cats, each of them acting like every version of him before. they're all dead by the end of the dream, a new one taking their place. it's different.

 

\- - -

_what are you wondering?_

_what do you know?_

_ why aren’t you scared of me? _

_ why do you care for me? _

_ when we all fall asleep, _

_ where do we go? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe what did you think!!! did you enjoy the slight development of the characters? did you like alfred??? i was nervous about him, and getting characterization right as well as how he talks. also selina?? and jerome???? maybe teaming up? or not teaming up? hmmm
> 
> i wanted to explore the darker aspects of jeremiah, and bring more of that side out now that things are changing for him. and the jerome reveal!!! about their past! that was fun to get into. yall remember his little memory while choking bruce while drunk??? yaaaa
> 
> bruce expressing his ~feelings~ to alfred wow, what did you think of bruce's perspective on his relationship/friendship thing with the twins?
> 
> did you guys think the little dabble of j/miah this chapter was good? or bad? or weird? thoughts so far? 
> 
> thank you for reading and always being supportive! i love you all very, very much. literally every single one of you. until next time, friends! ❤️


	18. the fish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m finally updating!
> 
> i didn’t write as much plot in this as i wanted, but i haven’t updated in so long, so i decided to cut it a bit short! it’s only 14k this time. /:
> 
> it’s been a rough month for my personal life, and gotham officialy tore my heart rIGHT out of my chest last week, so i’ve also been recovering from that. 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this chapter. ❤️

_shake it off, no it's not always easy._

 

_i just need some time._

 

_kill me now, with all of your kindness._

 

_help me change my mind._

 

\- - -

 

jerome wakes up at four in the morning, which makes sense when he remembers him and jeremiah originally went to sleep at around four in the afternoon, and then fell back asleep at around six at night. his sleep schedule is about to be as fucked as his twin’s. he rolls around in the warmth of his bed before deciding to just get up.

 

jerome thinks maybe jeremiah is also awake, but goes into the bathroom to prepare for a shower rather than bother him. he’s always so grumpy when he wakes up. the bathroom floor is cold even through his socks, the white tile too bright when he turns the light on. at least the flat blue color jeremiah picked for the walls is dull. if he picked yellow, jerome probably would have gouged his eyes out. then again, jeremiah would have, too.

 

he starts the shower up, the water sounding far too loud in the otherwise silent house. as he undresses, he can’t help but stare in the mirror over the sink, taking in the sight of his chest. the scarring is sporadic, no pattern to it, and he can’t even remember which ones were due to his own recklessness or from his ‘family’.

 

jerome thinks it’s _interesting_ that jeremiah has an identical scar, under their right collarbone. he knows that his twin recreated it, the mark too neat, too identical to have been a bizzare coincidence.

 

he traces it with his finger, the scar barely even visible on him, the white mark not even raised anymore. it’s an older one, one he got from a small tree branch. he was climbing and the branch scraped him, ripping his shirt. jeremiah had wiped the blood off and studied it to make sure it wasn’t dirty, and made jerome throw the shirt away. they were maybe ten years old when that happened. the only reason he remembers is because, not even a day later, his knife went missing, and then it reappeared.

 

jeremiah was about to take a shower when jerome busted in to pee, because they didn’t have boundaries, they were children. but his twin was shirtless already, and he saw the scabbed-over cut in the same spot as his.

 

he never said anything about it, he actually ignored it, because it was just a funny accident to jerome back then. but the mind doesn’t stay naive forever. and when jerome had stolen his journal, and read the things he wanted to do to their mother, their uncle, to owen, to himself, to jerome, he had grown so painfully intrigued.

 

he traces the long scar slashing diagonally down his left shoulder. he got it from their uncle, the kitchen knife incident staying forever in his memories. it was the first time their uncle zach had seriously harmed jeremiah, and zach had panicked. he knew they’d have to get it medical attention, because it was too deep, and jeremiah wouldn’t stop bleeding. thankfully nothing serious was damaged, and all that remains is a scar and a fucked up psyche.

 

but jerome’s own interest piqued again when jeremiah stopped crying and stuck his fingers in the wound, eyes screaming in pain but also so dangerously curious about how deep it went, how bad it was. he simply watched as his twin stuck three fingers in to almost the second knuckle. jerome wanted to try. he didn’t. of course he didn’t. but he _wanted_ to. jeremiah’s fingers were bloody from the little test, and jerome’s were bloody from trying to stop it from bleeding.

 

he remembers the questions from that doctor, but they couldn’t be completely honest, couldn’t risk not being believed and being punished for trying later. the doctor was pretty, was so soft-spoken and kind, and they could have said something. he knew jeremiah wanted to. but it was too big of a risk, even for jerome. his twin wouldn’t even look at the doctor, was so upset and knew one look would break him.

 

zach never gave out their names, just went in, got patched up, and vanished. it’s what they always did back then. vanished. zach had threatened them to stay quiet about it, along with their mother, but it didn’t matter. the whole circus knew what had gone down, but no one gave a shit except for the gossip material. maybe that’s why they snapped and left.

 

no one tried to stop what they knew was going on. but attacks never happened to jeremiah, so of course when he was hurt bad enough to end up in the emergency room, people whispered and wondered what exactly happened to lead to that. jerome is fully aware that a lot of people thought it was him, because he was horrible and a bully to his twin brother. granted, he kind of was, but his twin was just as vicious back when he wanted to be. that’s what people also don’t know. but he doesn’t care. _he_ knew, and that’s all that matters.

 

 _he_ knew he wasn’t actually terrorizing his brother, or making him feel like shit. he knew he wasn’t the reason jeremiah started to hide away. he knew he wasn’t the reason for what happened that night. jerome is sure they also think he kidnapped jeremiah, made him go along with his evil, twisted plan.

 

oh, how little they knew.

 

uncle zach probably told wonderful stories, probably sent out a manhunt at first, before realizing nobody fucking cared. they didn’t care about their mother, or about them, or the things that were happening. they were living in a _circus_. shit was bound to be fucked up and weird.

 

he knows the scars on his back are particularly bad, but bruce hasn’t seen those, or at least, he doesn’t _think_ he has. he doesn’t want to see the confused pity, the concern when he realizes what the scars resemble. it pisses him off. jeremiah never mentions them, and he’s perfectly fine with that. grateful, even. what’s there to talk about? his twin knows where they came from, what they are, who gave them to him. they don’t need to talk about them. about any of it.

 

jerome gets in the shower, not really wanting to think about their past, but seeming to be stuck in it. jeremiah choking him must have succeeded in cracking open locked doors. he still can’t believe it happened, that it was real, not some twisted dream. he can hardly believe it was even jeremiah at all because he’s gotten so used to the good side being the one in charge.

 

the water is hot, probably too hot, but he likes it. the sting reminds him he’s alive, he’s a person, too. jerome forgets himself while orbiting around his brother. he’s spent years protecting him, taking care of him, doing everything for him. his mind is nothing but _miah_ _miah_ _miah_.

 

and then came bruce, and he’s still trying to keep track of his twin’s health with his mind wandering to the beautiful little brat. he’s failing, obviously. he’s never had to split his attention before, and he can tell it bothered jeremiah at times. his twin was also used to jerome never having to take his attention off of him. he doesn’t blame bruce, and he’s sure jeremiah doesn’t either, but the kid is one hell of a distraction. but he’s also doing so many wonderful things for them.

 

he never thought jeremiah would find someone that he could connect with so perfectly, so quickly, or someone who would be so understanding and willing to help take care of him. jerome can admit to wanting some of that lifted off of his shoulders, because it’s a lot. he stresses every time he leaves jeremiah alone, mostly due to his recent increase of panic attacks while he’s away. now, bruce can keep him company, keep a close eye on him while he’s gone. it’s a comforting thought because he mostly trusts bruce.

 

mostly.

 

he washes his hair and body all at once, almost laughing at his one bottle of 2-in-1 he buys and jeremiah’s three different bottles. his twin wants it all separate, of course; shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. he wonders why he uses conditioner. he assumed it was for women only, with their long hair, or whatever. he tilts his head at it, and reads that it is, in fact, specified for women on the bottle, and wonders why he never questioned it before while buying it. he doesn’t even know how to pronounce the name of it, but it says that it’s for ‘curl hydration’. huh.

 

he picks it up and gets a generous amount, the stuff disgustingly thick. when he washes it out, though, his hair feels weirdly soft, and he thinks that explains why jeremiah’s hair is so much softer than his. and his curls are much prettier. jerome doesn’t really want to be pretty, but he’s curious anyways. jeremiah wanting to take care of his curls doesn’t make sense to him, seeing as he used to constantly gel them down flat. but he supposes things that are softer are easier to manipulate and mold into what you want. that’s also true for people.

 

the way jeremiah manipulated him last night brings on the thought that maybe he’s grown too soft. then again, he’s been far too soft about jeremiah for a while now. it’s almost embarrassing in front of bruce. the kid sees this image of him as a badass, someone who genuinely just doesn’t give a fuck, and that’s _true_. but jeremiah just breaks him down a little, and he’s aware it’s a dangerous weakness to have. he’s confident bruce would never use that against him. he’d _hope_ not anyway, given how open they have been in front of him.

 

he remembers jeremiah last night, how open his eyes were, giving away everything he was feeling even though jerome could feel it deep inside of himself. he thinks it was almost too much, almost _unbelievably_ honest. jerome probably shouldn’t have come up with his stupid idea to balance out his twin’s drunk kiss by doing one himself, but he’s impulsive and doesn’t know how to _shut the fuck up._

 

he doesn’t want to upset jeremiah. he doesn’t want to push him too far. he’s already done that once, and he isn’t sure he’ll survive it a second time around. he worries bruce will fall into a trap, too. but he couldn’t bring himself to warn the kid when he asked what he should be cautious about.

 

he turns the shower off and steps out, the bathroom foggy and warm, reminding him of the feeling he got when chatting with bruce. what a _stupid_ feeling to get, he thinks, while just having a stupid conversation over the phone. it wasn’t anything romantic, _thank_ _god_ , or flirty, or really anything special. they just asked questions and got to know each other. so why does it make him warm and fuzzy? he’s starting to feel pissed off now, because he doesn’t _understand_ it.

 

he doesn’t understand bruce or what they’re doing. he wants to brush it off and say they’re fuck buddies, and he’s aware that’s his outer attitude. but he knows this is something more than fuck buddies, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. he’ll never admit it out-loud, god, not _ever_. but this is as new for him as it is for jeremiah, and he thinks he’s a little afraid. he’s afraid of caring about bruce more than he knows how to. he thinks he already does.

 

the kid just draws him in, and he doesn’t even really understand why. they had an interesting first meeting, but nothing else makes sense. they would never have been friends in school, or if they lived a normal life in gotham. they are complete opposites, with very different morals and views of how things should be dealt with. bruce believes there is good and bad in everyone, and works to bring out the good while accepting the bad.

 

jerome doesn’t know why the kid puts up with people’s shit. he doesn’t owe them anything. he knows the disrespect bruce receives from adults and higher ups, but when he really thinks about it, bruce _is_ the higher up.

 

bruce is in charge and owns their futures just like jeremiah’s. bruce could tear down people’s lives with a snap of his fingers. jerome would use that power constantly. jeremiah would, too. but bruce doesn’t, so people continue to walk all over him. that pisses him off even more. he wants to knock some fucking sense into those rich assholes who think they own gotham. they don’t. if anyone were to own gotham, it’d be bruce. too bad bruce is too full of good to ever do it.

 

and yet it’s part of what he likes about bruce.

 

he sees whatever good there is in jerome, good that he doesn’t see in himself. he knows this because, if the kid didn’t, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to stay connected. he wants so bad to know what bruce sees in him. he wonders if it’s simply attraction, because jerome _is_ attractive, and charismatic, and manipulative. maybe bruce just enjoys his looks, enjoys the tension he arouses, or has just fallen into a trap that jerome didn’t realize he set. did jerome manipulate bruce into liking him? into wanting to maintain some form of friendship between them all this time?

 

but then, he remembers selina. he’s friends (though he’s mentioned they’ve done more than friendly things) with her despite her ferocity, and the fact that she’s apparently a thief as well hasn’t seemed to bother him. maybe he truly doesn’t care that jerome is a terrible person, and a huge asshole. then again, he doesn’t even know the half of it. he could never tell bruce that much about him. about _them_. he can never know about their past, where they are actually from, or anything about their teen years in general.

 

jerome exits the bathroom with his towel loose around his hips, doing a brisk walk to his bedroom. he hates how cold jeremiah keeps the house. it sucks after showers, but jeremiah always bites out ‘ _get dressed in the bathroom like i do, jerome_ ’. he’s stubborn, so he continues to suffer the cold to spite his twin. he flicks on his light and starts to get dressed, seeing that it’s now a little past five in the morning, and he had showered for a nice, long hour. he doesn’t even remember the shower. he was so lost in his head.

 

he realizes that must be why jeremiah takes long showers. jesus, does his twin always think that hard? jerome thinks he would become exhausted always going that deep into his own head and feelings. it suddenly makes more sense to him why jeremiah is the way that he is sometimes. he’d be bitchy, too, when being messed with after the shower thoughts he just had.

 

jerome groans when he remembers that it is so early, and going to a pet shop is hours away. he flops back on his bed in his sweats, choosing to leave his shirt off for a while longer. he doesn’t feel like looking for one. he knows he will think too hard about what to wear, which is absolutely _ridiculous_ because he isn’t manipulating anybody, he isn’t being sneaky or putting up a persona. he can just be himself today while buying something for jeremiah. with bruce.

 

bruce.

 

he finds himself smiling at the thought of spending time with bruce, but it gets a bit twisted when he remember it’s public. he tries to stay out of the public eye, but bruce draws in the media like no one else in gotham. well, besides the stupid politicians. and people think _he’s_ a fake. that oswald cobblepot guy is about as honest as his mother was loving, and as kind-hearted as she was a christian woman.

 

jerome’s heard rumors that the guy wants to give out little cards called something stupid like ‘penguin pass’ or whatever that lets criminals do shit without police interference. it’d cost a pretty penny, though, but with the wayne money still hanging around, he could afford one. he supposes the bird looking psychopath is better than the suave, manipulative, rich asshole named theodore (seriously, _fucking theodore_ ) that’s running against him for mayor. now _that_ guy is up to some sneaky shit, jerome thinks warily.

 

he says he’s gonna make gotham safe and crime free, which is like saying he’s gonna shoot rainbows out of his ass and give all orphans new, loving parents. the impossible. false promises to cover up his true intentions. someone like that would be far worse than cobblepot, and expensive get-out-of-jail-free cards don’t sound that bad.

 

jerome doesn’t really steal anymore, considering bruce fucking wayne can get him the parts and materials his twin needs instead. he just steals groceries, which he doesn’t _have_ to, but why not? and working as a distraction doesn’t seem so bad except for the fact that they almost got fucking caught. thank god that idiot didn’t realize jerome was apart of the robbery.

 

he’s gotta bring in money of his own somehow. the wayne money isn’t infinite, sadly. they use it sparingly, and jeremiah wants to keep most of it safe in case of an emergency. he’s not sure what his twin thinks will happen, but it isn’t a bad idea.

 

he remembers with a weird suddenness that the politician dude’s name is theodore _gallavan_ , and it draws a weird connection to the text that greenwood sent the other day. he had said a different name, had described him as rich looking and big ears, and gallavan _definitely_ has weird looking ears.

 

he scrambles for his phone, also remembering the cluster of texts from all of the idiots that almost got him caught, wondering if they did get caught and if they ratted him out. you would think friends wouldn’t rat other friends out, considering jerome has very heavily (and believably) implied murder as soon as he’s free again, but you never fucking know. jerome has four messages from jonathan (the only one he actually kind of likes).

 

- _where the fuck are you? you ghosted us_ -

 

- _we didnt get caught. but im sure the guy went to the police_.-

 

- _did he realize you were apart of it?_ -

 

- _i kind of dont want your brother to freak out if you go to jail_ -

 

and ah, yes. jonathan. always the one who is twitchy about jeremiah. jerome realizes that _maybe_ painting jeremiah as the kind of man who needs what he needs, and should _not_ be disappointed, is a bit of a bad idea, but it gets them to help out when he needs it, along with his own aura of terror. he rolls his eyes at jonathan’s concern, though knows in real-life context, it’s still a very real concern.

 

-relax. ive been laying low. he had no clue i was involved. am i still getting payed for blowin that guy or what-

 

he exits jonathan’s messages and goes to greenwood’s, who has sent three.

 

- _dude wat the fuck_ -

 

- _hey do u have an answer for gallaway or wat im tired of him pesterin me for ur phone #_ -

 

- _i know u will kill me if i give it out and not that i really care if u tried but fuck man him and this other dude r pissin me off_ -

 

and _jesus_ the guy is an _idiot_. he doesn’t know why he puts up with him in the group, seeing as he isn’t useful. he’s just expendable baggage to jerome. the guy never wears a disguise when he shows up, and his face is disgustingly recognizable. his neanderthal features are easy to spot.

 

-did u mean gallavan? as in theodore gallavan?-

 

he asks but doesn’t think the creep will actually know the answer. his phone buzzes and is relieved to see it’s jonathan.

 

- _why are you texting me this early._ -

 

jerome rolls his eyes, not feeling the least bit bad.

 

- _somewhat glad you are okay. you’re the only other smart one in the group._ -

 

jerome laughs, but notices that he never answered about the payment.

 

-i know. so payment or what? need to know-

 

- _i’ll find a way to pay you back._ -

 

great. so they didn’t steal the amount they were planning, which was expected considering they were caught. but they must not have gotten much at all. or jonathan’s lying.

 

-hope you arent lying. hope you do.-

 

he decides on a light threat, aware that he needs jonathan on his side, and to remain civil with him at the very least. he doesn’t even remember the other guy’s name but he has his phone number saved as ‘skinny’.

 

-i guess they ran into arnold late last night and took him in for questioning. i’ll keep you updated on where he is and if he spilled our plot.-

 

and oh, he’s guessing skinny is named arnold, and _oh_ , the skinny bastard better not spill anything. he feels nervous rage that someone was caught, but that means the guy gave out descriptions. arnold must have been acting shady.

 

- _also, please meet up with theodore gallavan today. him and his right hand man won’t leave me alone. says you were supposed to meet yesterday at the city park and you never showed. for the love of god, talk to the guy._ -

 

so it _is_ theodore gallavan. what the hell would a crooked politician want to talk to him for? why does he know who jerome is, and who jerome hangs out with? he wonders what else the creep knows. he grimaces at his phone.

 

-fine. i dont know what he wants with me. or how he knows who to talk to to find me. sound creepy to u?-

 

- _for sure. makes me a bit anxious. i feel like he has been watching us. or something._ -

 

the thought makes his stomach turn, but chooses to deny it. there’s no way. jerome would have noticed that guy. or maybe he has someone else watching them. jonathan and greenwood both mentioned a second guy.

 

-i dont like that. ill meet with him and get him off our backs.-

 

his head perks up from his pillow when he hears the faintest sound of socked feet, a sound he loves to hear from his twin. it’s the way his presence is announced any time he’s moving room to room. he only hears it on the days he isn’t couped up working. he’s been hearing it a lot lately. then, a door opens, and the feet vanish down the hall towards the kitchen, jeremiah most likely attached to them and in desperate need of coffee.

 

he thinks about getting up to join him, but feels himself hesitate. does he regret their conversation last night? does jeremiah feel weird about that entire interaction, and how the night ended? why is he so worried about this? _you fucking idiot_ , he thinks. _just get the fuck up. it’s miah, for god’s sake._

 

he hops up, hair still very wet, and decides to bypass a t-shirt. he’s still feeling too lazy to find one that’s decent. jerome opens his door slowly, as quietly as he can, still not really wanting to disturb the calm silence. it’s strange for him. the walk down the hallway feels far too long in the quiet atmosphere.

 

he hasn’t been up this early in a very long time. it’s probably always this quiet. maybe that’s why jeremiah likes to wake up at this time; to be alone in it before the storm passes through, the storm being jerome. he hopes jeremiah doesn’t dislike his presence _too_ much.

 

he rounds the corner to jeremiah’s back facing him as he fumbles with the coffee machine. even that is a quiet activity right now. he just prays jeremiah felt him coming so he doesn’t scare the shit out of him. jerome slides in his socks a little to the island, hoping the noise is subtle but not distracting. his twin’s head quirks in his direction a little, but that’s all the sign he gets that he’s aware of him.

 

jerome takes a seat silently. he doesn’t really know why he’s being so quiet, it’s completely against his nature, but he can’t help but think jeremiah deserves some peace this morning. plus, he wants him in a good mood when he brings home his gift.

 

the coffee machine starts, the crackling noise disrupting everything he was trying to do. jeremiah sighs.

 

“sometimes, i don’t mind the noise,” jeremiah starts to say softly. “but sometimes, i’d really like a silent coffee machine.” jerome snickers, and then actually thinks about what he said. guess i could look for one of those, too, he thinks. bruce might know more about those. maybe. he should get bruce to pay for a nice one. the kid would do it without hesitation. is that taking advantage of him? jerome finds that he isn’t too worried about it.

 

bruce spends his money the way he wants to. if jerome asks for a coffee machine for jeremiah, then bruce would buy one, because he _wants_ to. jerome doesn’t see how that’s a bad thing. he leans forward and rests his upper half on the island, the concrete cold against his chest and arms as he lays his head down, too, listening to the coffee machine.

 

jerome almost jumps when something touches his left shoulder blade, but figures it’s probably just jeremiah, which comes with more questions. he stays silent and still, however, as his fingers trace over a scar, he’s assuming. jerome senses sorrow and something similar to fascination coming from jeremiah, and doesn’t know what to say. he just lets his twin continue to touch whatever marks he wants, the feelings swirling around in his chest.

 

“i hate this one,” jeremiah suddenly whispers, voice full of such _venom_ , and even if jeremiah wasn’t touching it, he would already know which one he meant. he squeezes his eyes shut, holding back a sigh. he was just thinking in the shower how grateful he was jeremiah never brought shit up - now, here they are. he thought too soon. “it’s the only one i actually hate to see.” the admission kind of shocks jerome. “i’m used to seeing the others, and all of them blend together so that i can hardly remember how they got there. but _this_ one,” jeremiah’s voice falters, fingers pressing harder into the spot.

 

it’s on the left side of his back, spanning down his ribs and on the squishy section of his waist. it stands out, that’s for sure, the ugliness of it taking up a large portion of skin, but he understands why it stands out to jeremiah. his twin will always know _that_ one wasn’t an accident.

 

“just a scar, miah,” he mumbles against the concrete island. “don’t mean shit to me. they shouldn’t to you, either.” and yet, as he says it, he knows it isn’t completely true. jeremiah knows it, too. but his fingers disappear, and jerome is finding it a little harder to breathe with the swell of agony seeping in from his memory, something even he won’t deny.

 

and then his twin’s fingers return, touching the knife scar on his shoulder, and then his whole hand rubs along it, warm and real, and jeremiah never does this, never just touches him, so he stays quiet, letting it happen as feelings swirl between them.

 

his eyes squeeze shut even more, breath rattling out of him as he remembers that night, one of the worst nights of his entire life. he fucking _hates_ re-feeling that night. he fucking _hates_ that he remembers. he wants to forget. he wants jeremiah to forget. but the mark left behind is unbearably huge, and impossible to forget.

 

jeremiah’s right hand slips into his hair, gently running his fingers through it, imitating what jerome does to comfort him. he finds it’s working. he sees why jeremiah appreciates it so much.

 

he tenses up when warm lips press gently against his left shoulder, jeremiah’s nose cold in contrast, and it throws him off. his twin has never kissed him, has never returned that form of-of affection, intimacy, comfort- _whatever_ you call it. but jeremiah has been doing a lot of strange (but not unwelcome) things the past 24 hours. it’s over as suddenly as it happens, his twin no longer touching him, making him wonder if it even happened.

 

he lifts his head and sees jeremiah has started pouring himself a cup of coffee, his back to jerome again. he opens his mouth, ready to say something, though he isn’t really sure what, but jeremiah interrupts before he thinks of anything.

 

“before you go out today,” he speaks slowly. “please wash my blanket. i was rather cold last night without it.” and just like that, the moment is over, and jerome laughs.

 

“fuck, fine, i’ll wash your blanket,” jerome says, standing up from his chair and stretching a little, trying to shake off the tension. “need to throw anything else in with it?” jeremiah turns and shakes his head, blowing on the coffee in his mug gently. when their gazes lock for the first time all morning, he sees the same dark glint in jeremiah’s eyes that was there last night. his twin just drinks his coffee casually, however, leaning against the counter. jerome squints, and can’t help but smirk at the funny little idea that just popped into his head. 

 

he prefers jeremiah a blushing, fumbling mess. 

 

jeremiah notices his smirk, his eyes lowering as he also lowers his mug a little, squinting suspiciously. jerome just maintains his cocky expression as he walks towards his twin.

 

“how can you stand your coffee like that?” he asks curiously. “isn’t it bitter?” jeremiah continues to eye him suspiciously, nodding slowly.

 

“i _like_ things bitter, i guess,” he answers, voice quiet. “have you not _tried_ it black?” jerome shrugs, moving in closer, standing directly in front of him now. he lifts his hands and pulls the mug away from jeremiah, maintaining eye contact, and takes a slow sip. he scrunches up his face as he swallows, and hands it back. jeremiah is suppressing a smile.

 

“yeah, _no_ , that’s _disgusting_ ,” he starts to say, trying not to giggle. “you know, you should really start keeping in mind how your mouth might taste.” jeremiah blinks, taken aback by the words. jerome just raises his eyebrows, patiently waiting for him to question what he said.

 

“i’m sorry?” his twin eventually asks, apparently thinking jerome was going to elaborate without prompt. he smiles at the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion and offense, eyes a bit wide behind his glasses.

 

“well, if you’re gonna be kissing someone now, you might not wanna taste like disgusting, bitter coffee,” jerome explains flippantly. jeremiah tilts his head, but seems to actually be considering his words. “he likes caramel, in case you were curious on what he might like to taste instead.” he grins at jeremiah’s eye roll, cheeks tinting pink. _much better_ , jerome thinks to himself.

 

“well, do you think he’d enjoy the overpowering sweetness that _you_ must have?” jeremiah grumbles out, eyes staring into his dark mug of coffee. jerome snorts.

 

“at least i’m not _bitter_.” he defends himself quickly. “if i were to kiss you right now, i’d hate it. like, a _lot_.” and wow, jerome probably didn’t need to bring that up, but jeremiah’s eyes widen, before narrowing angrily.

 

“i’d hate it, too. i _like_ it bitter. you wouldn’t taste bitter. so i wouldn’t like it.” jeremiah choppily quips out, obviously offended by what he said. he feels a little bad, but it’s true.

 

“look, i’m just throwing it out there. i’m not sayin’ you should stop drinking black coffee, or liking bitter things,” he says with a sigh. “just consider sweetening up a little when you wanna kiss him.” jeremiah looks down again, blinking rapidly.

 

“is that what you do?” his twin asks softly, sounding genuinely curious, not looking up at him. he looks so young.

 

“i mean, that’s just me. i don’t do it purposefully, but it seems to work out in my favor. no one’s complained before. well,” he quickly starts to correct. “except you, i guess.”

 

“it’s not like i-i actually know-“ jeremiah starts to fumble out, face tense in discomfort, and ah, yes, _definitely_ much better, he thinks. his twin shakes his head, face scrunching up more. “why are we talking about this?” jerome smiles widely, swaying a bit where he stands.

 

“i’m giving you advice!” he exclaims cheerily, arms opening up theatrically. “plus, if we practice making out for bruce’s enjoyment, i want you to _not_ taste horrible, you know?” jeremiah flushes again, his inhale even sounding annoyed.

 

“don’t put your tongue in my mouth and you won’t have to worry about it.” jeremiah bites out, words confident, making jerome laugh in surprise. warmth settles in his stomach at the thought anyway.  


 

“right, i’m gonna practice kissing you for a sexual situation and _not_ use my tongue,” jerome drawls sarcastically. “very funny, bro.” jeremiah looks up at him again, cheeks dark along with his eyes, face still tense. jerome clenches his jaw and lets his smile soften. “just don’t drink black coffee when we kiss, cause that will be gross tasting.” he starts to walk backwards, moving away from his twin. jeremiah rolls his eyes.

 

“ _if_ we do it,” he corrects him. “and you must have had a traumatic experience kissing someone who drank black coffee.” jeremiah takes a sip, face drooping as his attention seems to become fixed on jerome’s neck. he has avoided looking at the bruising himself, n ot really wanting to see it. he ignores it.

 

“actually, i don’t think i’ve ever kissed someone who tasted like that shit,” and then, jerome is tilting his head, eyes sparkling as jeremiah’s own eyes widen, head shaking rapidly.

 

“ _no_ ,” he says firmly, body straightening up as jerome stalks towards him. “no, absolutely _not_.”

 

“i get a free pass, remember?” jerome reminds him, reveling in the distressed flush on his twin’s face, coffee mug held up high between them like a shield. he places his hands on the counter behind jeremiah, locking in close. jerome can feel the heat radiating off his twin, the feeling almost intoxicating in the cold air of the kitchen.  


 

“your free pass doesn’t allow _tongue_ , jerome.” jeremiah reminds him, and _oh_ , he’s sadly right. jerome pouts, eyes moving over his twin’s slowly relaxing face. he makes a non-commital noise and shrugs, pushing away dramatically.

 

“you’re right,” he sighs out, already turning his back to him with a smirk. “and i’d _hate_ to waste a perfectly good opportunity for no good reason.”

 

jeremiah, flustered and warm from both embarrassment and anger, watches jerome leave the kitchen, not entirely sure what just happened.

 

was jerome... _flirting_ with him?

 

and _no_ , that’s ridiculous. and even if he was, it isn’t a strange thing for jerome to do. and yet, as he stands there, rigid as a board and hot all over, he’s reminded of yesterday, of how close he was to jerome, of how open his twin was with him in front of bruce, more open than they have _ever_ been with each other. although he supposes bruce thinks otherwise, and he tries not to think too hard about the fact that bruce so easily believes it’s a possibility. if he had just watched and heard that sort of interaction between two people, sure, he’d believe they were a little more than friendly.

 

they aren’t just two people, though.

 

they are twins, _brothers_ , and the way they were yesterday isn’t _normal_ , and it certainly wouldn’t be considered _possible_. and yet, bruce hears it, and believes it. bruce sees it, and wants more.

 

jeremiah can’t quite fathom that.

 

he decides it’s too early to think this much, and downs the rest of his coffee, not caring that it burns. burning makes him think of jerome. the way he makes him feel, the way he looks and acts, the way the flames tore them both apart. the ugly scar that jeremiah hates so much is a horrendous reminder. he places his mug gently in the sink, remembering that jerome is going out alone with bruce today. he’ll have the house to himself again, and prays things don’t go quite as badly as yesterday.

 

he walks down the hall and is surprised to find his bedroom door open, before remembering that jerome is supposed to be washing his blanket today. his own forwardness last night has him blushing in utter embarrassment. he doesn’t know what came over him or what he was thinking. jerome didn’t seem to mind, though. he enters his bedroom, expecting to see jerome at his bed, but his blanket is already gone. it didn’t get far, because it’s laying on the floor, and jerome is in his closet, which is strange-

 

he freezes, eyes going wide when he sees what jerome has, what he is studying in confusion. his twin notices him come in, and holds it up for him to see, and jeremiah thinks he’s going to have a heart attack-

 

“you still _have_ this thing?” jerome asks in a surprised voice, flipping it over and touching the back. “i still have mine, too, i think.” and jeremiah has never moved so fast in his _life_ , snatching it out of jerome’s hands and clutching it close to his chest, and he’s finding it’s a little hard to breathe. “woah, uh-“

 

“what are you doing?” he asks firmly, trying not to let his voice shake with fear. jerome’s eyes are a little wide.

 

“i just-i saw one of my hoodies, so i was gonna grab it. i wasn’t, like, snooping, or anything. i don’t do that.” jerome answers defensively, turning to face him with an earnest expression. “i didn’t know it was there.”

 

“why did you take it out?” he continues to interrogate. “did you look in it?” jerome just shakes his head.

 

“miah, i just took it out to see what was in the pocket-“

 

“did you look?” jeremiah interrupts, needing to know, right now. his throat feels tight, and his stomach is churning, head on fire with terror.  


 

“i didn’t look in it after pulling it out,” jerome states simply, and it doesn’t feel like a lie, doesn’t feel dishonest, but there’s something wrong- “miah, i just pulled it out. that’s all.” jeremiah takes a deep breath, but his grip doesn’t relax. jerome’s eyes are searching his, but he has his walls up, he is _not_ letting jerome in right now. “i didn't look through your personal shit, okay? you can relax.” he reassures him with a smile, hands raising a little. now, jeremiah feels embarrassed to have reacted so strongly, over something seemingly so small. but it isn’t small.

 

“sorry, i just-“ he sighs, letting his shoulders fall, but keeping the journal tucked against his chest. jerome nods, his smile staying in place as he pats his arm gently. “yeah.” he finishes lamely, knowing that his twin understands, and he doesn’t actually need to explain himself.

 

“that journal’s been around since we were kids, miah,” jerome says. “the kind of shit kids put in journals is meant only for those pages to see. i get it.” he explains it perfectly, and it’s nice for his twin to actually understand privacy for once. jerome brushes by him and scoops up his blanket, heading out of his room like he was never even here. jeremiah sighs in relief that his privacy wasn’t actually breached. he supposes he should find somewhere else to put it.

 

he knows it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to put it in the pocket of his favorite hoodie of jerome’s, seeing as his twin might want it back, which he _did_. lots of people apparently hide things under their mattresses. he could do that. he wonders if jerome has anything hidden under his mattress. he only just realizes his twin said he still has his old journal, and he wonders for a brief second where he has it hidden, but dismisses the thought. it isn’t his business, just like his journal isn’t jerome’s.

 

still. the curiosity lingers.

 

jeremiah moves to slip it under his mattress, on the end up against the wall so it isn’t easily accessible. he doesn’t still write in it, and he _could_ get rid of it, but he can’t risk it being found somehow. he wants it with him, always. just in case.

 

everything is a just in case to him.

 

he stays in his bed longer than planned, the sound of the washer door closing in the distance snapping him out of it. _no laying around today_ , he tells himself. _be useful_. clean the house, do the dishes, brainstorm a new invention idea. something other than laying in bed and thinking. things are better now.

 

yeah, sure, he choked his twin brother after trauma resurfaced, and he blacked out after a panic attack in front of said twin brother for the first time ever, and his relationship with the same twin brother has started becoming more intimate because of his ever-growing relationship with a billionaire that he also works for, and his invention for that billionaire doesn’t really work, but he’s trying, and the effort seems to be appreciated, and jeremiah realizes as the list goes on, that _things get better_ , and he really doesn’t need to worry.

 

he’s aware he’s skimming over the fact that he’s not only becoming physically intimate with a new, real human that he cares about, but also entering that with jerome as well. they are entering a relationship with the same person, at the same time, and he’s not sure how normal that is. then again, nothing is normal in his life. why would things start to be now?

 

he stands and walks to his doorway, almost colliding with jerome on his way out, his body jolting from the near-impact. jerome pauses to smile at him, and jeremiah feels frozen, stuck staring at the one person who cares about him more than anyone else in the world, and feels such an overwhelming amount of emotion flood through his body. he wishes he were better at showing how much he cares. _there are ways_ , he reminds himself. _you’re just a coward_. he doesn’t want to be a coward forever.

 

so, he hugs him.

 

he steps forward and slowly slides his arms around jerome’s shoulders, chin resting in the usual spot. there’s still distance between their bodies, because there always is, but jerome must not be too worried about what’s the norm between then. his twin turns a little more into it, steps a little more into, so that they’re bodies are completely pressed together. his arms loop carefully around his midsection, and jeremiah feels warm. he feels comfortable.

 

why is he always so afraid to hug?

 

he remembers a similar breathless warmth when bruce hugged him, and he really wants to hug bruce again. this feeling is a good feeling, which is something he doesn’t experience often, but he would certainly like to. the last time he hugged jerome, it was semi-relief that there wasn’t actually an intruder still outside, and the time before that was when jerome was trying to apologize for sleeping with bruce. it ended with jeremiah punching him. and before that, was when his twin had told him about bruce existing in jerome's life. now, he’s hugging him because-

 

well. he isn’t sure. he just...wanted to.

 

he breathes in deeply through his nose as he starts to pull away, not even worried about explaining himself. he pulls his head back, arms sliding back off of his twin’s shoulders, hands resting there instead. but jerome doesn’t pull back at all, instead just letting jeremiah move away at his pace, which at first seemed nice, but now, jeremiah feels like he’s being tortured. he moves his head back more, enough to lock eyes with jerome, and when his twin’s arms pull back so his hands are on his waist, he exhales, not realizing he was even holding his breath.

 

jerome smiles at him again, but it’s a different smile - this one is small, and his eyes are kind of glowing, making them look almost soft, and jeremiah is fascinated by it.

 

“i love when you initiate contact with me,” jerome says, voice grumbly, the opposite of how he looks right now. jeremiah thinks it’s on purpose. “even when you punched me, i was just thrilled you physically started it.” and the moment feels ruined by a joke, like every moment between them, but he’s not sure _ruined_ is the word for it. _shifted_ suits it better. he scoffs and looks away, dropping his hands and stepping back.

 

“you’re so weird,” he mumbles, looking down. he wants to believe he’s being totally casual, but he can feel how warm his face is, and how awkward his voice comes out. jerome just laughs, though, hands dropping from his waist to walk past him. even the way he brushes by feels soft, kind, comfortable, close. when he knows jerome can’t see, he lets himself smile softly. he feels good.

 

it’s plagued, however, by the reminder that it’s all only temporary.

 

-

 

“what kind of fish are you even thinking about getting him?” bruce asks him. jerome suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“what, you think i’m some kind of fish expert who can name a fish type off the top of his head?” jerome quips as the automatic doors for the pet store slide open for them.

 

“no,” the teen drags out with a smile. “i figured you googled it and looked into a pet fish before deciding to get one.” jerome scoffs in response, ignoring that it would have been a pretty good idea to do first. the store smells like dog food, and he can hear birds chirping somewhere inside. his lips quirk involuntarily. he sees a big sign advertising the fish section, and grabs bruce’s wrist to pull him off in that direction. the teen laughs as jerome practically bounces once they get there.

 

“holy fuck, there’s so many kinds,” he breathes out, tapping on the glass of fish that are under black-lights, their little colored bodies glowing. he's fascinated. bruce pulls his hand away from the glass gently.

 

“fish don’t like that,” bruce explains to him like he’s a child. “why don’t we look at one’s that don’t need to be in groups. fish that are okay with being alone.” jerome nods, like he understands fish _completely_ , and knows exactly what he’s _looking_ for now. he’s following behind bruce lazily, because he is actually _very_ clueless, when his eye catches on a shelf of little tubs with individual fish in them. one draws him in specifically.

 

“ooooh brucie, look at this one,” he bends down to be eye level with the fish. “it’s his favorite color.” bruce bends down next to him, studying the fish, but jerome accidentally gets stuck on the teen’s profile instead. his lashes are actually pretty long, and his eyebrows are really thick, and his mouth is -  


 

“it’s a betta,” bruce says, and yes, jerome thinks he knew that. “that’s the perfect fish to get, actually.” bruce has a ghost of a smile on his lips as he says it. he goes back to looking at the fish. it’s tail is huge, and fans out a brilliant, dark blue, but the color fades to a paler blue on it’s body.

 

“i’m diggin’ this guy,” jerome says with a nod. “how much is he?”

 

“it’s $14.99,” and jerome cringes, a noise of pain escaping him.  


 

“ _seriously_? i thought it’d be, like, $4.99.” he tilts his head at the fish skeptically, but sighs in defeat. “fine. we’re getting this one.” he carefully picks up the container, trying not to jostle it too much.

 

“alright!” bruce says excitedly. “let’s get a little tank and some rocks and stuff.” bruce walks away with a flip of his long coat, leaving only a breeze. jerome blinks, before deciding to not move at all. he doesn’t want to traumatize the fish by running after the billionaire.

 

“i’ll wait here!” jerome yells out, hoping bruce hears him. he notices a girl staring at him, so he smiles and lifts the fish a little, as if it’s an explanation to whatever reason she has for staring. she gives him a tight grin and disappears behind a shelf. jerome stands there with a grin of his own, waiting patiently for bruce to come back, when the girl reappears again. he raises his eyebrows at her.

 

“i’m sorry, but is-is that, um, bruce wayne?” the girl asks timidly, blue eyes wide and sparkling. jerome snorts at her.

 

“what, you know him?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know he’s a famous billionaire. her eyes widen even more, jaw dropping. she shakes her head slightly, giving him an awed smile. jerome feels uncomfortable.

 

“i actually met him once - well, more like _saw_ him and - it was at a party. he was just so - “ she trails off, face glowing happily. jerome scowls a little.

 

“listen, we’re just here to get a fish, so don’t be weird,” jerome says, tone harsh. her expression falters into something surprised before she’s smiling again. it looks painfully fake this time.

 

“um, of course,” she concedes. “i see you’ve picked a betta!” the girl points out pointlessly. jerome has to suppress an eye roll.

 

“uh, yeah, bruce said it would be a good fish for-“ he pauses. “for my little brother. it’s his first pet. kinda expensive, though.” he doesn’t know why he tells her this, but her expression lights up again. she claps once in what appears to be excitement. he peers over her shoulder, wanting desperately to leave.

 

“well, can i interest you in a cheaper betta?” she moves in closer and around him, dropping into a squat. he peers at her curiously, and when she stands, she’s holding a tub from a lower shelf. “a baby one!” he blinks a few times, before he finally sees the little guy. she even picked a blue one - the body smaller than the tip of his pinky. but it’s a pale blue, and the tiny amount of tail on the thing is a dark blue.

 

“wow,” he says, genuinely surprised by it. “uh, is it hard to take care of?” he asks doubtfully. surely a baby fish would be harder.

 

“just needs some different food to start off with, and as it grows, start easing it into eating regular fish food.” she answers kindly. “that’s all! and your little brother will get to raise it and everything! it’s only $2.99.” and yeah, that price definitely peaks his interest. and letting jeremiah actually raise a little living thing sounds...fun. he moves to carefully set the adult betta back in it’s original spot.

 

“sorry, buddy, but the baby is cheaper,” jerome says to the fish. the girl giggles at him, and he takes the fish from her with a slightly uncomfortable grin. “what food does he need?” he decides to ask.

 

“right, follow me!” she says airily, turning to walk away. jerome somewhat reluctantly follows, eyes scanning for bruce. she turns down an aisle only two down from the fish, and stops in front of the fish food containers. and boy, are there a _lot_ of different types of fish food. she picks up a thing that says ‘freezer dried brine shrimp’. “just crumble this up for him-“ jerome is distracted when bruce walks into the aisle. so is the girl, it seems.

 

“fuck, there you are,” jerome breathes out. he holds up the tub for the teen to see. “look! it’s a baby!” he smiles stupidly at the teen, who’s eyes light up at the sight of it. “and he’s cheap as hell. what did you get?” he nods his head at bruce’s arm-full of things.

 

“i got a little plastic tank with a built in filter, some black and white rocks, and a fake plant,” bruce says, and he seems to only just now really notice the girl, his eyes landing past his shoulder. “oh, hello.” he says kindly. jerome turns back to the girl, who looks shell-shocked.

 

“hi!” she eventually says happily. “um, hi.” she says again. jerome decides to help the star struck girl.

 

“this is, uh,” he glances down at her name tag. “silver. she helped me pick a cheaper fish and is giving me tips on feeding the dude,” jerome explains helpfully. bruce nods in understanding.

 

“well, thank you. i think we have all we need now.” bruce says, like he’s suggesting that she is dismissed. silver smiles.

 

“i’ll be at the register to check you guys out!” she says cheerily, and jerome almost can’t stand how sweet she is. it’s too much. it’s over done. she turns and leaves, curly blonde hair bouncing as she goes. bruce sighs behind him.

 

“i hate when that happens.” the teen grumbles, re-balancing everything in his arms. jerome laughs at him.

 

“oh no, how _tragic_ that women are attracted to you.” jerome says sarcastically.

 

“they aren’t attracted to _me_ ,” bruce snaps out. “they’re attracted to my money.” jerome scoffs.

 

“yeah, i know,” he mumbles. “i don’t give a fuck that you’re rich, but you bet your billionaire ass i’m making you pay for all that shit.” bruce smiles at him, but it lasts a little too long. his chest gets tight and he has to look away. “okay, don’t make it mushy.” he turns around completely, feeling almost embarrassed. bruce laughs quietly and brushes past him.

 

“let’s get this check out over with.” the teen says, practically dragging his feet to the register, where silver is actually waiting. they get all their shit bought separately, bruce’s own total reaching a _staggering_ eighty dollars ( _how much was that fucking tank?_ ), but before they can make a run for it, silver gains some sudden confidence.

 

“there’s going to be a birthday party at the siren’s club thursday night,” she says in a flirty tone. jerome stiffens. “you’re both welcome to come out and join the fun.” before he can be an asshole, bruce cuts in, probably sensing it.

 

“thanks, but i work, and i’m not into parties anymore. and he’s too old for you.” with that, bruce picks up his bags and walks away, leaving jerome a bit helpless. he looks at silver and shrugs at her confused and offended expression. he carefully walks out after bruce, fish cradled in his hands.

 

“not into parties, my ass,” he laughs out, finally catching up. “we partied, like, a week ago, or something.”

 

“that was _my_ birthday party, it doesn’t count.” bruce says dismissively, unlocking his car.

 

“oh, come on, she was totally interested in you!” jerome continues to tease over his own bit of jealousy, but bruce just shakes his head.

 

“like i said before, she’s interested in my money.” they get in the car, jerome still holding the fish gently.

 

“well, i was apparently too old for her, so,” bruce scoffs.

 

“you are. she looked, like, sixteen.” and jerome has to agree with that. she did look fairly young. bruce's protectiveness has his ego bursting anyway.  


 

“blonde princesses aren’t my type anyway,” jerome drawls out as bruce starts up the car and backs out and away from the store. “i prefer brooding brunets.” he says nonchalantly with a grin. “you obviously prefer hot redheads, seeing as you have snagged two of ‘em.”

 

“so i’ve ‘snagged’ you?” bruce asks cheekily, and shit, he didn’t really think about what he was implying. _so much for acting like strict fuck buddies_ , he thinks with a snicker.  


 

“we’ll see,” he mumbles, eyeing the little fish. “we’re both about to win one hot redhead’s heart, that’s for sure.”

 

-

 

jerome politely looks at bruce, hoping he gets his silent cue. bruce nods and turns away, thankfully understanding. he types in the code for the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. “miaaaaaah!” he screams out loudly. “i’m home with two special guests!” he giggles after he says it, locking the door quickly and holding the fish behind his back. carefully, of course. bruce follows him into the kitchen where jeremiah meets them, looking uncomfortable.

 

“you said two guests, so besides bruce-“ jeremiah’s words hault when jerome brings the fish forward, holding the little tub up between them. “jerome, what-“

 

“i got you a fish.” he says it like it isn’t a big deal, and jeremiah doesn’t move for a few seconds. but then his eyes are wide and glittering, a surprised laugh escaping him. he gently takes the tub from his hands, raising it up and staring at the tiny fish. “your official first pet. a baby fish. i know they aren’t, uh, lovable, but-“ jeremiah is suddenly placing the fish gently on the island and hugging him, and jerome is shocked mostly because this is the second hug of the day, when he usually gets maybe one a month. he laughs, looking at bruce in shock. the teen is smiling at them.  


 

“this house is so unsuitable for a normal pet so i never thought i’d get one,” jeremiah says in a rush as he pulls back, not giving jerome time to hug back. “i never even _thought_ of a fish.” his twin picks up the fish and studies it.

 

“we have a tank for it, and plenty of other things,” bruce chimes in. “i’d love to help set up.” jeremiah is almost smiling at this point, nodding excitedly.

 

“i don’t-where am i even going to put him?” his twin looks around the kitchen, but jerome doesn’t think this is the best room.

 

“maybe in your blueprint design office, or whatever,” jerome suggests. “it’s the calm office that you work in the most. he could keep you company in there when i’m not around to bug the shit out of you.” jeremiah nods as bruce starts unpacking the stuff on the island. they all work together to bust everything open, filling the tank with lukewarm water and filling it with half of the bag of rocks. jeremiah sticks his hand in to place the plant neatly in the left back corner.

 

“oh, and these will take the harmful chemicals out of the water.” bruce says, sliding over a tiny bottle that resembles eye drops. that would probably be a tragic mix up, jerome thinks. jeremiah puts in the correct amount of drops, and then pops the lid off of the tub. jeremiah says a soft ‘hi’ to it, and jerome feels like his heart just got lit on fire. a fish was a good choice. he carefully dunks the tub in and tips it, letting the fish swim out into the larger tank. it swims around, before settling by the plant. they all just watch in silence, before jerome gets antsy.

 

“what are ya gonna name him?” he asks. his twin blinks, seeming to draw a blank at the question. “got any nerds you look up to to name him after? well, besides bruce.” jeremiah rolls his eyes and bruce scoffs, but both are blushing.

 

“i’m not sure yet,” jeremiah mumbles. “i have to plug it in?” he holds up a cord attached to the tank.

 

“yeah, it has a built in filter so you don’t have to change the water and clean it as often.”

 

“i didn’t know that existed,” jeremiah says, sounding somewhat surprised. “how incredibly efficient. i’m sure that raised the price of the tank?”

 

“well, it’s more expensive than a normal tank, but buying the two things individually would have been more costly.” bruce answers, but jerome isn’t sure that’s completely true. he squints at him, watching the way the teen squirms under his gaze. “plus, you don’t have to constantly restock on filter cartridges. so. money saver in the long run.” jeremiah seems to except this easily enough, picking up the small tank as carefully as he can.

 

“come help me find a place by a plug-in?” jeremiah asks to no one in particular. they both silently head down ahead of jeremiah to find a plug-in so he can set it down. jerome looks over his shoulder before whispering to bruce.

 

“more costly, huh?” bruce looks at him in warning, but jerome doesn’t care. “how much was that tank that you spent _eighty dollars_ in total?”

 

“jerome-“

 

“not that i’m _against_ it,” jerome quickly adds, not meaning to sound like it’s a bad thing. they enter the office, jeremiah still only halfway down the hallway, movements slow. “but you don’t gotta lie to him about it.”

 

“it’s a harmless lie,” bruce practically whines out, eyes scanning the room. “besides, we both know he’d feel all guilty for no reason about it.” and yeah, okay, bruce has a point there. he spots a free plug-in on the far left corner, and jogs over there to clear a little spot on the desk closest to it. he looks around the room, having not been in here since the day he introduced bruce and jeremiah. what a day that was, he thinks. the billionaire had practically seduced his twin on the spot, although looking back, jeremiah had done the same right back. bruce was just as smitten upon first meeting him.

 

his twin finally appears beside him with the fish tank, setting it down softly with his tongue poked out between his lips. his twin starts rambling about little facts on the ocean, for no real reason except to just share random knowledge with them. jerome smiles, glancing at bruce, who is watching him with a similar expression.

 

jerome thinks maybe bruce cares about jeremiah more than they both can really understand.

 

bruce catches his eye, expression suddenly looking a bit embarrassed and afraid, which definitely makes him all the more curious. he turns his attention back to jeremiah, who has successfully plugged in the tank.

 

“-tragic that the ocean can’t somehow have filters. it would save so many lives, you know?” jerome barely catches the end of what jeremiah was rambling about, but heard enough to hum in agreement. jeremiah whips his head to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “you weren’t even listening.” bruce snickers, causing jerome to roll his eyes.

 

“yeah, yeah, have you named it yet?” he asks to change the subject. his twin’s eyes light back up, a small grin gracing his features.

 

“i decided to name him after the most famous engineer and scientist that literally everybody knows,” he says, looking back at the little blue fish. “tesla.”

 

“that’s a pretty fitting name,” bruce says appreciatively. “welcome to the family, tesla.” the teen steps forward enough to poke the top of the lid of the tank, smiling gently. jeremiah is blushing profusely, which jerome can understand, because his own stomach does a weird flip. _family_.

 

“family, huh?” he decides to boldly tease. bruce’s eyes widen, embarrassed and afraid all over again. the teen clears his throat, tucking his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet.

 

“your family,” he says like an explanation. “what, are you not a family?” jeremiah’s eyes are focused intently on tesla, cheeks blotchy. jerome smiles widely, moving to throw his arm around bruce’s shoulders, the kid tense underneath him.

 

“relax, i’m fuckin’ with you.” he drawls out. “besides, it’s way passed lunch time and i’m starving. so you wanna stay for lunch or do you have plans? you know, being a busy billionaire and all.” bruce suddenly looks disappointed, and jerome’s smile falters.

 

“i do have plans, actually,” he admits, like it’s the worst crime he could commit. “but i’m free tomorrow night. i can stop by and hang out, if neither of you are busy?”

 

“i don’t think miah has anywhere to be,” jerome says it almost like a question, tilting his head at his twin, who rolls his eyes.

 

“you can come over tomorrow night, bruce,” jeremiah answers firmly. “we can make dinner. and we’ll actually have it done before you arrive this time.” bruce chuckles and lifts up his sleeve, peering at that watch again. jerome still wants to steal it. the teen sighs.

 

“i didn’t realize how long it would take to get you a fish,” he says, slipping out from under jerome’s arm. “but i do have lunch plans at one-thirty. i should get going soon to get properly dressed.” both twins look bruce up and down, taking in his button up, slacks, and dress shoes.

 

“you’re kidding,” jerome laughs out. “what kind of lunch plans require fancy attire?” bruce looks a bit ruffled.

 

“business ones.” he bites out, hands fidgeting. “ones i’m kind of nervous about, actually.” jerome whistles, and looks at jeremiah’s interested face. this isn’t really his kind of conversation.

 

“i’m gonna go get the rest of the stuff from the kitchen,” he says, thumbing over his shoulder as he backs away. jeremiah’s eyes widen. “and to eat something before i starve to death.” he turns and saunters out, whistling as he goes.

 

bruce shakes his head, looking at jeremiah with a sigh. “i think he wants us to talk.” he says, the redhead scoffing in response, eyes avoiding him. bruce tilts his head, a twist of anxiety at the lack of eye contact.

 

"fancy business meeting, huh?" jeremiah asks, interest clear in his voice. bruce scuffs his shoe on the floor nervously.

 

"yeah, with some guy who represents a mayor candidate." jeremiah hums in understanding annoyance, picking up bruce's disinterest. he appreciates that the man picked up on it. he still isn't looking at bruce, though. “everything okay?” he asks, not bothering to hide his concern.

 

“yeah, no, everything, uh-“ jeremiah starts to fumble out, before pausing and shaking his head. “everything is fine. i promise, things are-are _better_.” he sees the way jeremiah swallows hard, and knows that something happened. jerome mentioned that his twin didn’t handle being left alone after it all very well. and bruce certainly hasn’t forgotten about the bruises that are very obvious on jerome’s neck. he hasn’t said anything, hasn’t wanted to disrupt jerome’s fairly good mood and excitement about buying his brother his first real pet.

 

“you know, i try not to always assume the worst,” bruce says lowly, taking slow steps towards the man. “but after i correctly assumed the worst about jerome’s face and your bruised hand-“ he pauses when the man stiffens, back going tense and shoulders hunching up a little. “i just want to make sure everything really is okay.” he doesn’t respond for a long moment.

 

“things are better now.” he says simply, blankly. “i promise.” the repeated promise does ease bruce’s worry a bit, but not much. he moves in closer, remembering what both twins said about touching his back. he steps around to stand side by side with him, looking at tesla as well. he waits in silence. “i panicked,” jeremiah says blankly. “i don’t always really have control when i panic.” he doesn’t look at jeremiah, doesn’t him to feel pressured or scrutinized.

 

“overall, do you regret our decision?” bruce asks cautiously.

 

“no,” jeremiah quickly answers. “god, no, just-“ he waves his hand around, and bruce understands it.

 

“i hope i didn’t make you feel pressured at all,” he says, embarrassment tainting his voice. “and you can always tell me when i’m crossing a line. i told you that before, and i still mean it.” this time, he does look at the redhead, taking in his tense profile and deep frown. “i should get going, though. you can always text me or call me. i’ll always answer for you.” bruce places a hand on jeremiah’s shoulder firmly, and moves away, heading towards the door. he pauses, though, half turning back. “i hope you love tesla. jerome was very excited about him. don't believe the nonchalant act.” when jeremiah finally turns and looks at him, he looks almost scared, but gives him a small smile. bruce gives him a calm smile in return, shoving his hands in his pocket as he actually exits the room and heads down the hallway. he hears jerome’s voice echoing slightly from the kitchen.

 

“i don’t give a fuck, alright?” bruce’s eyebrows furrow, not liking the angry tone. “i’ll meet him at the city park at six.” when bruce rounds the corner, he sees jerome’s back, and his phone up against his ear.

 

“sorry. i just don’t like being-“ jerome sighs, and turns his head when he hears bruce’s footsteps. “being pressured. yeah, that, too, obviously. okay. later, dude.” bruce stands in the kitchen, feeling a bit awkward, like he wasn’t supposed to hear that. he asks about it anyway.

 

“what was that about?” jerome smirks at him as he shoves his phone in his back pocket.

 

“professional business meeting with a guy who has a stupid ass name. speaking of,” jerome suddenly gives a clap and starts moving past him. “you should be getting to your own meeting, right?”

 

“yes,” he says, but doesn’t know what else to add. he follows in silence to the door, and raises his eyebrows when jerome turns to face him.

 

“thanks for the help today with miah’s fish,” he says sincerely. “work has been, uh, lacking for me. so. it’s appreciated.”

 

“wait, are you having money problems?” he asks, surprised to hear that. “granted, i’ll be paying jeremiah soon, and it will be a good amount every two weeks, but-“

 

“no, no,” jerome interrupts firmly. “no charity work here, rich boy. i’m probably getting some work after tonight’s meeting. don’t worry ‘bout it.” bruce continues to stare in worry, though, as jerome fidgets. his eyes catch on the redhead’s throat for what must be the hundredth time. jerome actually  notices this time. “and don’t ask.” he says roughly, finger pointed at him. he doesn't give away that he already knows, that jeremiah gave in to him just a few moments ago. he doesn't want to get into that with jerome. but he can't help the bitterness rising in his throat, that the redhead wouldn't trust him.

 

“of course not,” he snaps out. “we’ve known each other for almost two months, jerome, but i’m finding you still aren’t all that open with me.” and jerome sighs angrily at that, eyes closing. “maybe try trusting me a little-“

 

“i let you into my home,” jerome says over him firmly, making bruce clamp his mouth shut. “i let you meet jeremiah, i let you-“ a laugh slips out. “i let you _see_ us. _together_. no one has _ever_ seen jeremiah like that. i’d say i’m trusting you quite a lot.” bruce swallows, because he realizes that he’s right. he forgets that they aren’t like everyone else, that what he’s getting is incredibly exclusive to him and no one else. “i think all three of us have a lot to open up about, but for now, this is gonna have to do.” jerome’s tone isn’t harsh, but more like he’s trying to make a deal.

 

“you’re right,” he says softly, his eyes lowering. “i’m sorry. i’m forgetful of our-our unique situation sometimes. and i do have opening up to do as well.” he agrees easily, knowing that it’s honest. he hears jerome sigh before his feet come into view. a warm hand settles under his jaw and guides his face up, eyes locking with the redhead’s. he can see the frustration clouding his green eyes, face tense and eyebrows low.

 

“i forget, too.” jerome mumbles, but then he’s leaning forward and kissing him, lips warm and almost feeling like a promise. before bruce can really respond, he’s pulling away, thumb stroking his cheek. he feels his insides twist, not wanting to leave anymore. he just wants to kiss jerome. “you should get outta here now.” and he’s starting to step away, but bruce isn’t having that.

 

he surges forward, hands fisting into jerome’s t-shirt as he reconnects their lips. the redhead breathes in harshly through his nose, his hands resting hotly on his waist, and he wants more, more, _more_. bruce slips his hands up into jerome’s hair, pulling him closer, opening his mouth for jerome, who’s tongue slips in easily without hesitation. his hands pull bruce closer, too, bodies pressing together, and yeah, bruce does _not_ want to leave. but jerome pulls back, forehead resting against his, and sighs.

 

“you had a caramel macchiato this morning, didn’t you?” the redhead asks, and bruce lets out a breathless laugh, willing his heart to slow back down. "i can taste it."  


 

“sorry,” he responds, leaning his head back, not really feeling all that sorry. he could taste worse. jerome looks flushed, and he feels proud at accomplishing that. “but i do have to go now. i can’t be late.” jerome groans with an eye roll and moves away completely, bruce’s hands sliding down and off his shoulders.

 

“why do you have to be a rich business dude with a life?” jerome grumbles, turning around and punching in the pass code to unlock the door. “i want your life to revolve around _me_.” he feels even more out of breath at the statement, but when the alarm sounds, his heart sinks. the worry for jeremiah and their relationship gnaws at him again as jerome turns his attention back to him.

 

“can you make sure jeremiah is okay for me?” bruce can’t help but plead quietly.

 

“whatever,” jerome agrees nonchalantly. “if that will make you feel better.” he looks at bruce, eyes raking over him for a few seconds. “let me know how this scary meeting goes later.”

 

“let me know how your’s goes, too. and how jeremiah and tesla get along.” the door opens and bruce glides out, hearing it close and lock behind him. he takes a deep breath, pulling out his keys and preparing for whatever is to come.

 

jeremiah breathes out a sigh of relief when the alarms stop, trying to get over the buzzing under his skin. bruce figured out way too easily that he’s the one who hurt jerome, and it makes him more nervous than anything ever has in his life. bruce is going to think he is a violent person. he’s punched jerome and left bruises around his throat. he isn’t a violent person, not really, hasn’t been for a very long time.

 

he wheels a chair over and sits down, watching tesla swim around. a living thing to take care of. he’s always wanted to take care of something, to have something depend completely on him. he’s not sure if it’s a motherly instinct (considering he never really had one of his own) or an internal power struggle (considering he’s always felt inferior with jerome (and bruce)), but he’s excited nonetheless. jeremiah doesn’t want what happened yesterday between him and jerome to sour the moment.

 

his twin says to not worry about it, and that things are balanced out now. bruce just doesn’t understand yet. maybe he should never try to explain it. maybe bruce should stay in the dark about some things. he’s thankful he never got the chance to spill anything to him, because it was purely heat of the moment, and he wasn’t really thinking about the consequences of saying too much. jeremiah has never been more appreciative of jerome interrupting him in his life.

 

if bruce knew everything, it would be the end of them. bruce could never care for them, or protect them, or even feel safe with them. jeremiah can’t live with that. jeremiah _can’t_ lose bruce.

 

tesla turns to look straight at him, it’s tiny black eyes managing to look questioning. he gives him a small smile.

 

“what?” he asks him. “i should probably feed you, huh?” he looks around, before remembering that jerome was supposed to bring him the rest of the stuff. as if on cue, his twin walks in carrying a couple of things.

 

“you talkin’ to him already?” jerome teases, walking over and sitting down the things of fish food and the drops. “you’re supposed to give him some of this shit for a while until he’s ready for the actual betta food.” jeremiah opens up the shrimp and blinks in confusion.

 

“this is huge,” he points out, picking up the cube of dried up shrimp. “it’s bigger than tesla is.” jerome rolls his eyes.

 

“you crumble it up, stupid,” jeremiah scowls at the mean name. “he could probably live off of one square for the rest of his life, though. damn.” jerome says, sounding upset. “i got this giant ass tub that will probably go to fuckin’ waste.” jeremiah lays a cube on his desk and crushes it with his hand, the thing brittle and turning into a dirt-like texture easily.

 

“you could always eat it yourself.” jeremiah suggests blandly. jerome laughs, making his stomach flip.

 

“i _will_ eat it.” jerome says, like jeremiah is challenging him. he shakes his head, pinching a little bit of the dust between his fingers and sprinkling it into the gap in the lid.

 

“weren’t you just telling me i should think about how my mouth tastes?” tesla curiously swims to the top, staring at the food above him.

 

“bruce ain’t here to make out with until tomorrow, so that leaves you, my dear.” jerome drawls sweetly, and when jeremiah looks over at him, he’s holding a square, studying it curiously.

 

“you are _not_ coming anywhere near me for the rest of the day or night if you eat that.” he says seriously, but jerome just throws his head back in laughter. a small smile slips out at the sight and the sound, his stomach flipping again.

 

“well, in that case, i won’t,” he tosses the cube back in the tub. “i’d hate to sleep alone tonight and possibly miss out on something.” jerome grins at him, and jeremiah has to look away. he thinks he should ignore the implication that something is going to happen between them. tesla is pecking at some of the food, swallowing it down.

 

“did you just invite yourself into my bed?” he mumbles out, keeping his eyes focused on the fish to make sure he eats properly.

 

“no, i invited _you_ into _mine_ ,” jerome says, standing up from his perch on the desk. jeremiah can’t help but eye him cautiously. “you know, in case your blanket doesn’t get put in the dryer or something equally as tragic.” he scoffs, before it sinks in that jerome probably won’t put his blanket in the dryer because he’s lazy and he forgets, and that he will have to do it himself.

 

but he has a ridiculous feeling jerome doesn’t want him to remember, either.

 

he doesn’t comment back, instead watching in silence has tesla chases a particle of food that’s sinking down. he catches it easily enough, and swims around proudly at his success. jerome suddenly runs a hand through his hair, jeremiah unconsciously leaning back into it.

 

“thank you,” he says, the words almost a whisper. jerome presses a kiss to the top of his head, and then all of him is gone, exiting the room.

 

“i have somewhere to be tonight at six,” he calls back over his shoulder. “i’ll let you know before i leave and when i’m on my way home.”

 

“okay.” jeremiah replies, voice feeling small. jerome is gone now, and he’s left alone with tesla. he sighs, making eye contact with the little fish again. “it’ll be just you and me, tesla. it’s going to be a long night.”

 

-

 

when jerome arrives cautiously at the city park at 6:04 that night, he was expecting to see _the_ theodore gallavan. instead, he sees a woman who he can only assume is for him. her skin is dark and beautiful, along with her hair, sleeked back in a high ponytail. her tight leather clothing and deadly stare gives it away, because there would be literally no other reason for a woman like her to be here, obviously waiting, so he moves towards her.

 

he approaches her where she sits cross-legged and relaxed on a bench. when her eyes land on him, she scans him and gives a single nod, looking away again. alright, he thinks. guess that’s my cue. jerome takes a seat next to her, but not too close. he leans back, legs spread and hands clasped in his lap.

 

“jerome,” she greets firmly. he purses his lips.

 

“hot lady i don’t know,” he greets back, trying not to fidget. she blinks at him, unimpressed.

 

“i’m tabitha. theo’s sister.” and woah, jerome is very taken aback by that. he must be making a face, because she does crack a smirk.

 

“look nothing alike, but okay,” he says suspiciously. “why am i here? and why is he stalking me and harassing my colleagues?” tabitha rolls her eyes.

 

“he’s not the one doing it, if that makes you feel any better,” which, no, it doesn’t. “we have work for you.” he lolls his head away from her, sighing.

 

“what could he possibly want with me?” he drawls out, watching a bird fly from one tree to another.

 

“he said you have potential,” she says, sounding bored. jerome scoffs himself. “he has a big show he wants to put on to help be elected mayor over cobblepot.” he looks at her unimpressed, and she looks about as annoyed as he feels. “look, i don’t get it either. i’m just here to recruit you.”

 

“for what, exactly?” he asks a bit harshly, tired of the cryptic shit. tabitha sighs, putting her hand in her back pocket and pulling out an envelope, holding it out to him.

 

“show up to the first meeting.” she says, waving the envelope a little with an annoyed expression. “you’ll learn everything there with the others.” he raises his eyebrows.

 

“others, huh?” he eyes the envelope for a few seconds. “well, at least i won’t be the only one that gets slaughtered if i show up.” he jokes blandly. tabitha snorts, smirking with a delighted expression. jerome can’t decide if he likes that or if he should be worried. he takes the envelope, opening it and finding a large amount of cash. “this better not be, like, fifty dollars worth of one dollar bills.”

 

“it’s ten thousand dollars, cash,” and _fuck_ , jerome lets out a surprised laugh. “that’s funny to you?” he hears her ask. he peers in the envelope again, wiping a fake tear.

 

“fuck me, that’s a lot of money,” he says through a few more giggles. he looks at her, giggling again at the almost disturbed expression on her face. “he must be desperate. i’ll be there. where, exactly?” she hands him a piece of paper with an address on it, like they knew he'd agree.  


 

“if you don’t show, you’ll be seeing me again, freak.” he smiles at the name, not really bothered by it. it is quite the threat, though, and a believable one at that. tabitha stands and struts away, ponytail swishing as she goes. even her walk is threatening and deadly. he whistles at the beautiful sight of the cash, already trying to think of shit to spend it on.

 

he stands and pulls out his phone, calling jeremiah as he walks back to where his car is parked. he picks up after three rings.

 

“ _hello_?”

 

“guess fuckin’ what,” he says a bit breathlessly, opening his car door and throwing himself into the seat. “i just made ten thousand dollars.” he hears what is probably something hitting the floor.

 

“ _what_?!” jeremiah asks, bewildered. jerome laughs and starts the car up, scrambling to put on his seat-belt and tucking the envelope under his thigh.

 

“yeah, i’ll explain when i get home in a few minutes,” he pulls out of the park and starts to speed down the road, jittery and vibrating with excitement.

 

“ _okay_ ,” jeremiah says, still sounding bewildered, but not at all unhappy. “ _i’ll see you in a few minutes._ ”

 

-

 

when bruce parks outside of the restaurant, he can’t help the butterflies in his stomach. he’s not ready for this at all.

 

he’s never been one to meddle with politics, so when someone reached out asking to meet up and discuss where he stands, and where he _should_ stand, he wasn’t really interested. but, in order to keep himself labeled as a generous business man, he agreed to at least meet with theodore gallavan’s head of staff. bruce doesn’t have to represent gallavan for mayor if he doesn’t want to, but he can’t completely blow off the offer.

 

upon entering, the hostess recognizes him immediately, and simply says “right this way, mr. wayne.” she leads him to a table, where he sees a man smile at him, standing upon his arrival. he’s wearing a black suit with a deep maroon undershirt, his dark skin and dark facial hair standing out to bruce. the man’s eyes sparkling in the warmly lit restaurant, and when the man extends his hand, bruce takes firmly.

 

“bruce wayne,” he drawls, an accent peeking through. “lovely to finally meet with you.”

 

“forgive me,” bruce says kindly as heir hands separate. “i’m unsure how to pronounce your name. i’d hate to say it incorrectly.” they both take their respective seats, the man discreetly ordering some kind of wine. he smiles at bruce warmly, everything about him seeming so warm, and not seeming to take offense.

 

“ra’s al ghul.”

 

\- - -

 

_set the scene;_

 

_i woke up from a bad dream,_

 

_something's chasing me._

 

_is this home, or am i in a movie_

 

_with an unhappy ending?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy leave a comment expressing your thoughts on the chapter!
> 
> THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED IN THE SHOW HAVEN’T ALWAYS STAYED CANON IN THIS STORY. 
> 
> that’s some pretty inportant knowledge i should have thrown out there a long time ago! i’m basically creating my own timeline, with hints of canon, and some canon things that aren’t related to bruce and the twins. sorry for any confusion. 
> 
> lemme know what you think is comin up! and its been a while since we have heard from jimbo, huh. (:
> 
> i love you guys with all my heart. thank you for always giving me a reason to do something useful and update this story. until next time. ❤️❤️


	19. the desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! yeah, fuckin finally, am i right? got a little update for you! it's very short compared to other chapters (8,300 words), but i think it gives a good foundation for the next half of the chapter. (; thank you all for being patient with me during the flooding. it means a lot to have your support!  
> come chat and look at my gotham shit posts on my new tumblr that i don't know how to use!! @ gay-thom  
> hope you all enjoy this chapter. i really like it. ❤️❤️❤️

_told you not to worry,_

_but maybe that's a lie._

_the friends i've had to bury_

_they keep me up at night._

_where did you go?_

 

\- - -

 

when jerome lays the money out on the island, jeremiah is a bit stunned.

 

“ten thousand dollars is...” he trails off, and jerome cackles.

 

“yeah, i fucking know,” he says giddily. “just to show up somewhere. how crazy is that?” but jeremiah is skeptical. he eyes the money, too afraid to touch it. “i go to this house or whatever in two days, and earn ten thousand fucking dollars for it.”

 

“jerome,” he starts off, giving away his doubt. jerome groans, but he continues anyway. “listen, what if this is something really bad-“

 

“you act like i’ve never done bad things before.” jerome interrupts, fingering a bundle of fifties like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

 

“but you do bad things with people you _know_ ,” he says. “you don’t know this-this _woman_ , or _theodore gallavan_. he wants to stop crime in the city, and then hires criminals for something secret? _and_ he knows you’re a criminal!” jerome rolls his eyes, but jeremiah isn’t done yet. “you don’t even know what he wants, jerome. i mean, how does he even know who you are? what if it’s a trap?”

 

“you really think that bozo wants this city _crime free_?” jerome makes a face as he says the last two words. “have you seen the guy? he’s probably a criminal mastermind himself.” jeremiah’s stomach turns at the thought.

 

“and what if he is? what if he gets you in trouble, jerome?” he asks quietly, and this time, his twin blinks in surprise at his tone, at the way his shaky voice gives away his anxiety. “he wants to be elected after this supposed ‘show’, right? it’s going to make _him_ look good. why would it end well for the criminals? for _you_?” jeremiah hates that he is so paranoid sometimes, but now it feels like an advantage. he especially hates that jerome scowls, as if he hadn’t thought of that, as if he never wondered how this might end. “did you really not take that into consideration?” he asks in disbelief.

 

“look, i probably should have thought more about it,” jerome admits, and jeremiah huffs, not believing that his twin could be so stupid- “she threw money at me, and normally i do shit for fun, and amount doesn’t really affect a job but-but _ten thousand dollars_ , miah,” jerome says in a desperate tone, hands hovering above the money, but now, jeremiah thinks the money is a curse. he swallows around the rising fear.

 

“money is meaningless to me if you aren’t safe,” jeremiah says as firmly as he can, but it sounds so afraid. “the minute things start to feel off, or sketchy, jerome, back out-“

 

“i _will_ , miah,” jerome says, with actual firmness. his twin moves around the island to him. “i don’t do shit i don’t wanna do.” he places both hands on jeremiah’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

 

“i just worry that-“ and he pauses, is afraid to even speak the words, because he doesn’t want to entertain the thought more. “what if you can’t?” he whispers, eyes closing as his body goes tense. jerome doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

 

“you know me, miah,” his twin matches his tone, and he can feel him step a little closer. “i’m not completely stupid. i can handle myself. i’ll get out of this if it isn’t my cup of tea.” jeremiah’s chest is still swirling with anxiety for what jerome has gotten himself into, but the soft tone and physical contact has him weakening. he lets his eyes open, studying jerome’s nonchalant, yet honest, expression, feeling his shoulders relax a bit under his hands. he relents and nods, and when jerome gives him a brilliant smile, he thinks maybe it will be fine. jerome does always find a way out.

 

“besides, the curiosity is killing me!” jerome exclaims, bouncing a little. he forgets how childish his personality is sometimes. it’s such a contrast to the other part of his personality.

 

jeremiah supposes he is the same way.

 

“what are you even going to do with all of this?” he decides to ask, gesturing blandly at the island. jerome shrugs with sparkling eyes.

 

“could get a used car that’s better than what we have,” he starts to say, running his hands down to squeeze his biceps. he feels himself wanting to sway closer, eyes lingering on his twin's smiling mouth. “or a giant aquarium just for tesla,” jeremiah cracks his own smile at the absurdity, shaking his head. “or we could throw it in with the rest of the wayne money you have left?” he tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing.

 

“it’s your money, j,” he dismisses lightly. “do what you want with it. you don’t have to think of me and what i want.” jerome purses his lips, a distracting habit for when he’s considering something.

 

“but i always think about what you want,” his twin admits with a pout. “you’re all i think about.” the way too honest admission outweighs the silly expression, jeremiah’s eyes blinking in surprise. but then jerome shrugs, and his eyes take on a teasing sparkle. “guess i could spend it all on bruce.” he backs away as jeremiah snickers.

 

“yes, because bruce, a billionaire, wants you to spend your-your _criminal earnings_ , all on him. because he _needs_ that.” and he’s painfully aware of how it comes outs snarkier than he intended, and he is painfully aware of why. jerome’s eyes narrow, trying to figure out what he’s feeling, but jeremiah just stubbornly raises an eyebrow, not giving away what was hidden under that statement. his twin grins though, as if he knows. he doesn’t. he doesn’t. jeremiah grins tightly, contrasting with jerome’s amused one.

 

of course jerome can’t enjoy things with him. jeremiah doesn’t leave the house. he isn’t fun. he isn’t like bruce. he isn’t bruce. lately, he feels like his twin has been slipping from his grasp, distracted by someone who can offer him so much more. jerome sighs with an amused eye roll. of course he finds it humorous. what does he not find humorous?

 

“oh, don’t get your panties in a twist,” jerome says, poking his chest, finger feeling far too sharp through his thin t-shirt. “you know bruce doesn’t care that you can’t spend money on him with dates and gifts, right?”

 

oh.

 

jerome turns away a little, fiddling with the money some more, while jeremiah’s expression falls. he hadn’t even thought about that aspect of their relationship yet, hadn’t even dreaded the fact that he can’t be what bruce might want, can’t do things that bruce might want. now, his chest starts to ache at the realization. it’s just another reason jerome is the better choice.

 

 

“and it’s not like i can take _you_ out on fancy dinner dates or take _you_ shopping for expensive ties,” jerome continues to explain airily, jokingly, but his own expression sours a little. “so that leaves me to spend it on bruce, right?”

 

“logically, yes.” jeremiah decides to stiffly agree. he doesn’t look up as he exits the kitchen, head spinning with new thoughts.

 

it’s always bugged him that he can’t go to movies with jerome, can’t go out to eat lunch, can’t go grocery shopping with him, can’t pick out his own clothes in person based on what’s there.

 

jeremiah won’t be able to do those things with bruce, either.

 

he won’t ever get to take bruce out on a real date, or go pick up a gift for bruce that’s actually from him, or go to his house to meet alfred, one of the most important people in bruce’s life-

 

jerome can. jerome _has_.

 

and bruce and jerome can do all of those things together, without him.

 

they don’t need him.

 

has jerome _ever_ needed him?

 

jeremiah gasps when a hand latches onto his wrist, heart jumping into his throat. he yanks free, spinning around with terror written all over his face-

 

“it’s just me! fuck,” jerome exclaims, hands held up and body angled like he’s preparing to be hit. jeremiah lets out a relieved rush of air.

 

“you can’t-jerome, you can’t sneak up on me-“

 

“i didn’t,” jerome interrupts, voice sounding confused. “i was talking to you, and you were ignoring me-“

 

“i’m sorry,” jeremiah quickly apologizes. “i was in my head, i didn’t-i wasn’t-“

 

“hey, it’s not a big deal,” jerome says, lowering his hands and standing up straighter. his eyebrows are still furrowed though. “i was just fucking with you earlier, you know? i’m not, uh, actually gonna spend ten thousand dollars on bruce.” and jeremiah wants to laugh, because his twin really thinks he’s worried about how he spends the damn money. he doesn’t laugh though.

 

“i don’t care how you spend the money, jerome,” he says softly, wanting to make sure he knows he isn’t mad at him. “you could buy ten thousand dollars worth of redbull, and i would only be worried about your heart and where you would store it all.” jerome cracks a smile, and he feels better for a second. it drains quickly. “do you really think bruce won’t push for more with me?” the question slips out, and it doesn’t even really make sense, or accurately express what he wants to know. he shakes his head and tries again. “do you really think bruce won’t try to-to _fix_ me?” he feels his lip curl as he says it, hating the words and the insinuation that he needs to be fixed at all. he knows he isn’t right. but he can’t be _fixed_.

 

“okay,” jerome starts, eyes lowering. “yeah, there are gonna be moments, ya know? like how i used to be, except maybe less pressuring and aggressive, because it’s bruce.” jeremiah remembers what it was like at first when things started to shift. “i was very confused on why anyone _wouldn’t_ want to go out and enjoy the circus. and then, later on, i couldn’t understand why anyone _wouldn’t_ want to leave their home. but now, i get it, and we both know the outside world can be...well, fucking shit.” jerome pauses, smiling a little. “bruce does have that thing about him, doesn’t he? wanting to make things better for people. bringing out the best. just know that, if he does throw shit out there about maybe trying to leave, he has good intentions. dumb ones, but good.” jeremiah’s mouth quirks, and jerome gives a full smile this time. he speaks so softly about bruce. he misses that attention being directed at him. he gets it, though. it's bruce.  


 

he mulls over his twin’s surprisingly wise words. he is right, bruce will only be doing what he thinks is helpful. he just needs to remember to keep a cool, calm head when those times do eventually come.

 

“do you think he’ll get frustrated?” he mumbles, staring at the floor. he recalls how frustrated jerome would get. the snippy tone, the heavy sighs, the door slams.

 

“not gonna lie, miah, he probably will at times,” jerome’s honest answer makes his throat feel like it’s closing up. “the kid isn’t used to this whole shebang yet. it’ll take time, and probably a few arguments. but you can’t punch him when fighting like with me, okay?” the joke at the end does make him feel better ( _of course it does, it’s jerome_ ), and he thinks he should try to let this go. it’s not an issue yet.he should save the questions and worry for when it actually needs to be addressed.

 

“yeah, i don’t plan to punch bruce,” he reassures jerome, but then another thing floats to the surface. “can i ask something else?” jerome nods, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the wall. “do you think he’ll get frustrated at my lack of, um,” he fumbles, trying to think of the correct word. “initiation?” jerome seems to think hard about the question, taking a deep breath before he answers.

 

“i’m actually not sure,” he says. “i’d like to think not, but it’s hard to tell. he’s seemed pretty okay with the whole boundaries thing so far, right?” jeremiah nods, mind drifting back to the day on the couch. “maybe even enjoys that there are boundaries to push and break through,” jerome says suggestively with raised eyebrows. jeremiah rolls his eyes, feeling his face heat up. “it will make things, i don’t know...” jerome rocks his head back and forth. “spicier.” jeremiah closes his eyes and opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a breathy laugh.

 

“i’m sorry, _spicier_?” his twin throws his head back in laughter, pushing off the wall. “jerome, what does that even-even _mean_?” but as he asks it, he knows for a fact that his cheeks are dark red in embarrassment.

 

“oh, come on, you know i’m right,” jerome drawls out, moving in closer with a devious grin. "it makes every touch he gives and receives that much more special and sexually tense," he continues, standing far too close to jeremiah while talking about touching and sexual tension. he feels his heart leap when jerome's devilish gaze floats down to his lips, which doesn't really make sense, he doesn't have a reason to be looking- “can’t wait for bruce to come over tomorrow.” jeremiah jumps slightly, and freezes up when jerome leans forward and kisses his cheek. it's dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, the spot remaining warm and feeling like a promise along with his words. his twin gives him a wink before turning around dramatically and bouncing down the hall to the kitchen again. jeremiah starts to worry what could possibly happen tomorrow after dinner as he presses his fingers to the spot his lips made contact.

 

at least he has some of jerome's attention.

 

-

 

“she probably knows it’s bruce,” jeremiah says with slight dread. “i mean, she thinks there’s no one else in the world i am in contact with. she doesn’t know about jerome.” he taps his pencil anxiously, shaking his head. “she would know it was bruce even if she knew about jerome. it’s not like she would assume it was-you know what? you probably don’t care about any of this.”

 

he looks up at tesla, who stares back blankly. “you don’t even know what i’m saying.” he sighs tiredly, staring down at his doodle of tesla. “i should be working, not ranting to you about my therapist kind of knowing who i like while sketching you.” tesla, of course, doesn’t scold him for it, but his stare now almost feels judgemental. he sighs heavily and leans back in his chair.

 

he wonders when bruce will hear back from his engineers, and if they will have any helpful advice for him. jeremiah desperately wants this to work, not only to impress bruce, but to accomplish something as huge as this generator is. it suddenly occurs to him that he should probably go by his pen-name that he used for thomas wayne; xander wilde. would bruce think that was weird? he knows he’s protecting his identity, but bruce doesn’t know that, doesn’t know why he would need to hide himself from any publicity.

 

publicity brings his mind back to jerome and this politician, which he doesn’t want to think more about. all it does is twist his stomach into anxious, sickly knots of the unknown and the untrustworthy. he doesn’t understand how jerome could jump into something like this head-first without even using his head. he’s never been so reckless. not since they were young, at least, but he grew out of it. he had to.

 

jeremiah’s mind gets caught up on jerome’s wink and daring kiss, too. why did he wink? what did it mean? what is his twin planning? what’s he hiding up his sleeve? or maybe jerome is just screwing with him? there is no way for jeremiah to ever know for sure, until the very moment something, or nothing, happens. he drops his pencil with a heavy sigh, already curious as to what jerome has been up to in the past hour alone. his phone buzzes obnoxiously on his desk, tesla seeming to panic in his tank at the violent and loud disturbance to his peace. he mumbles out an apology as he picks up his phone.

 

- _i’m sorry about being so blunt earlier. it isn’t any of my business, and you only have to tell me what you want to tell me. but i am always willing to listen. i know i’ve said that a thousand times, but it’s true._ -

 

jeremiah stares at the text, feeling a bit overwhelmed by bruce’s willingness to be understanding of what he thinks happened to jerome’s neck. his apparent disregard for the fact jeremiah choked out his twin brother for mysterious reasons and intentions to instead be a good shoulder to lean on, feels almost naive, something he doesn’t believe bruce is. he isn’t really sure how to reply at first.

 

-i hope you realize you are too kind and open minded for your own good.-

 

he sends it and chews on his bottom lip, wondering where this conversation is going. he also wonders if he should have even caved in so easily when bruce questioned the bruises, if maybe he should have made it out like jerome had just done something stupid and gotten in trouble for it. but he knows bruce isn’t dumb enough to ignore the timeline of events, and how there was no way jerome had gone anywhere after their little escapade, after their late night phone call, and before nine in the morning when the two went out together. it makes his whole body tense up with the questions bruce undoubtedly has. when his phone buzzes again in his hand, his heart beats a little faster.

 

- _alfred has told me this too many times. i think i just care enough about people to want to help them. is it wrong of me to want to be helpful to you?_ -

 

jeremiah is a bit shocked, if he’s honest, because he doesn’t know for sure what the tone of the text is. it’s not like he can _hear_ the way bruce is saying it, because he isn’t saying it, it’s just words on a screen that can be read in so many ways. he’s worried it’s a bitter tone, one he’s heard from jerome several times. but it could also be bruce’s soft, yet firm, concerned tone he uses quite often with him. but he thinks back to jerome saying there are going to be moments the teen will be frustrated with him, and there will be fights between them. he can’t tell if this is one of those times or not.

 

jeremiah decides he hates texting. he finds he is too afraid to call, though.

 

his fear, however, is heightened when his phone buzzes profusely, signaling that bruce is trying to call him. he considers not answering at all, and acting like he didn’t realize he was getting a call, but jeremiah isn’t a coward, damn it. he takes in a shaky breath before pressing the accept button.

 

“hello?” he asks uncertainly into the phone.

 

“ _wasn’t sure you would answer_ ,” bruce’s voice crackles through the phone. “ _i just reread that text and thought maybe it would come off wrong_.” and yes, yes it did. “ _i’m just concerned, that’s all. and i have a quick question_.” jeremiah pushes up his glasses nervously, trying to relax into his chair. his back remains rigid.

 

“okay.” is all he manages to get out.

 

“ _is violence a common theme between the two of you?_ ” oh, bruce. “ _with each other? you two seem..._ ” bruce trails off. “close. so i wasn’t expecting things to get violent. i guess. i’m not sure i’m making much sense.”

 

“no, no,” jeremiah jumps in a bit too hastily. he clears his throat. “um, it’s fine. you’re fine. but, no, to answer your question. we aren’t violent often. um,” he stops to swallow, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and nervous to be entering this territory with bruce. but maybe he should. “can i be honest with you about something?” he asks quietly, not even sure bruce will hear it.

 

“ _of course, jeremiah_.” bruce responds gently, and he can practically see the pitying expression on the teen’s face. he squeezes his eyes shut.

 

“if you couldn’t tell, i’m not-“ his words cut off, and he didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to say out loud to someone who isn’t jerome or lee. “i’m not the healthiest person, mentally.” he doesn’t add more, but bruce stays quiet.

 

“ _i know about the agoraphobia, and i’ve witnessed you waking up from a nightmare_ ,” jeremiah cringes, wanting to forget about the moment of weakness that happened so early on. “ _and honestly, i’ve asked more about you, but jerome really has kept quiet. you said something about not being in control when you panic?_ ”

 

“i, um. yes. i have frequent panic attacks.” jeremiah confirms, voice quivering. he hopes it isn’t obvious over the phone. “i should tell you i suffer from a form of post-traumatic stress disorder.”

 

“ _okay_ ,” bruce says slowly. “ _i can understand a bit of what that is like_.” and of course. jeremiah forgets sometimes this is the same person who watched his parents get shot in an alley. parents that he loved. parents that loved him.

 

“right, i’m-i’m sorry, bruce,” and he sounds like an idiot, stumbling over his words. maybe texting isn’t so bad. “we don’t-we don’t have to talk about any of this-“

 

“ _it’s not upsetting me, jeremiah_ ,” bruce interrupts calmly. “ _if this is hard for you, we can stop. you really don’t have to tell me personal things if you aren’t ready to. i want to understand everything, and you and jerome. i want to be apart of your lives_.” bruce’s voice sounds so sincere to the point jeremiah isn’t sure he could crush him with the whole truth. he never could regardless. some things he just isn’t allowed to know.

 

“i’m okay. i just-i won’t go into detail. not yet.”

 

“ _i understand_.” of course you do, bruce. “ _i’m sorry, for whatever happened to you that’s lead to this_.” of course you are, bruce.

 

“nothing to be sorry for,” he dismisses quickly. “we all have something in our past we would rather not remember. we all cope differently.” jeremiah pauses taking a deep breath. “just, please don’t try to force me out of my home.” he pleads quietly. he squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for a reply.

 

“ _okay_ ,” bruce eventually agrees. “ _i won’t ever try to force you out of your home. is there anything else?_ ” jeremiah exhales in relief, shoulders relaxing. “ _i know you said not to sneak up on you, or touch your back, or bring up the circus in front of jerome_ ,” his eyes snap open. “ _which is admittedly a weird one_.”

 

“yes,” jeremiah agrees a bit blankly, forgetting entirely about the circus. panic alarms ring through his head. “when is the circus coming through again? just to remind jerome.”

 

“ _um, i think in, like, five or six days, actually_ ,” jeremiah freezes up again. so soon? “ _they will stay in gotham for a week_.” shit, jeremiah thinks, standing up with urgency. shit, shit, shit.  


 

“i, um, i think jerome will go crazy staying out of town for a whole week,” he tries to joke. but his head is spinning a little, and all he can hear is his heart beating in his ears. he’s walking out of his office and down the hall when it registers that bruce said something. “i’m sorry-what was that?”

 

“ _i asked if jerome is really that afraid of the circus_ ,” bruce asks again, voice tinged with doubt and worry. “ _that he would stay home for a week just to avoid it?_ ” he enters the kitchen to find jerome eating a sandwich and scrolling through his phone. his twin looks up when he enters the room, looking confused.

 

“yes, i’m afraid so,” jeremiah says shakily, maintaining eye contact with jerome. “he’s always been freaked out by the clowns and the bizzarre animals they have there.” jerome’s eyes widen as he puts down his sandwich, panic clear on his face.

 

“ _huh_ ,” bruce says, seeming to release his doubts. “ _i guess i can understand that. clowns are pretty horrible_.” he agrees with a chuckle, and jeremiah can’t even get words out. jerome, thankfully, catches on.

 

“miah!” he shouts in a sing-song voice. “hey, who you talkin’ to?” his voice is completely spot on, but his features are still panicked as he walks over to him.

 

“um, bruce,” he answers, and registers that the hand holding the phone is shaking. “who else would i be talking to?”

 

“ _i should let you go_ ,” bruce says softly. “ _just text me if you need anything, okay?_ ”

 

“oh, um, yes. i will.” he can feel bruce’s hesitation through the phone.

 

“ _bye, jeremiah_.” bruce eventually says, voice sounding worried, uncertain, unsure.

 

“bye, bruce.” jeremiah says back, voice deadpan as he stares down his twin. when his phone beeps that bruce has hung up, he swallows tightly. jerome, uncharacteristically, doesn’t say anything. instead, his twin just breathes harshly, eyes downcast, as if he’s angry, as if he’s going to explode any second. normally, jeremiah wouldn’t go near that with a ten foot pole.

 

this is different.

 

“you weren’t going to tell me,” jeremiah says bitterly. “i waited. but you never said anything. you weren’t going to tell me.” his voice raises in volume as the sentence progresses, the disbelief clear. his hand is gripping his phone tightly, wishing bruce was here to take his mind away with soft touches and kind words. he wants bruce right now. jeremiah wants to be as distracted by bruce as jerome is to the point of also forgetting about the circus.  


 

“why would you want me to tell you? so you could sit around and panic more than you already do?” jerome bites out.

 

“at least i’d have something real to panic about, so i can stop feeling _crazy_!” jeremiah quickly responds, feeling hot anger and fear twisting up from his stomach and spilling out of his mouth. “one of my worst fears is coming true, and you weren’t going to tell me! the one real, solid thing that we have been running and hiding from, the reason i’m even like this-it’s right around the corner from us!” jeremiah gestures stiffly to the front door in his line of vision, already feeling like they are out there, ready to barge in.

 

“they aren’t here, and it’s not like they know we are still even in gotham,” jerome says, tone attempting to be calming despite his scowling face. “for all they know, we’re dead by now. and,” jerome steps in closer when jeremiah attempts to turn away from him, hands grasping his shoulders, reminiscent of earlier today. “they have no leads on us. there’s obviously no one left that cares about what happened anymore if they are coming back after all these years. we are safe. there’s no reason for you to be afraid of them-“

 

“then what are _you_ afraid of?” jeremiah snaps out, jerome flinching back. “why are you so keen to keep my fears at bay while you sit and plan to hide away in the bunker with me when they are back?” jerome’s eyes close in what appears to be annoyance, only fueling his anger.

 

“jeremiah, i never said-“

 

“you were going to!” jeremiah cuts him off loudly. “don’t try to lie to me. we both know how that always ends up. you tell me not to be afraid, but you being afraid makes me even more afraid than i already am-“ jeremiah’s words are coming out rushed, his mind already racing with scenarios and possibilities. their uncle zach spotting jerome’s brilliant red hair in the distance, or hearing his never-changing laughter echoing in the air, following him to the safety of the bunker, loitering outside with owen and the others who had always hated jerome so they can take him out, finally, at last, and drawing jeremiah out next-

 

“miah!” jeremiah jerks at the sudden noise, eyes snapping away from the front door to meet jerome’s fierce ones. “they didn’t give a shit about us then, so they certainly don’t give a shit about us now.” his twin takes a deep breath at the same time as him. purely coincidence. “it’s been seven years,” jerome says in a softer tone. “half of those drunk bastards are probably dead in a ditch somewhere, left behind by the circus freaks without a single care.” jerome’s hands grab his face almost too roughly. memories of past employees being left behind in random wooded areas when they turned up dead flood to the front of his mind. “they. don’t. care.” jeremiah registers his eyes are watery. he hates how sensitive he is, how weak he is. but there is someone who cares.

 

“ _he_ cares,” jeremiah grits out, swallowing hard at the swell of fear. jerome’s face hardens. “you know he does.”

 

“there’s nothing he can do, jeremiah,” jerome says dismissively. when he rolls his eyes, his twin continues. “there isn’t. we are hidden away, just outside of the city, somewhere he will never go to. there’s no real trace of valeska’s in gotham. he won’t find us. i’ll stay here if you want me to.” jerome sounds sincere, but a another problem rears it’s ugly little head.

 

“you have to go to that sketchy meeting in a few days,” jeremiah reminds him solemnly, watching his twin’s mouth frown tensely. “and do whatever show they ask you to put on. what if it’s public enough-“

 

“i’ll get out if it is, yeah?” jerome cuts in gently, his hands falling to grip his shoulders. “i told you i would back out if i don’t get the right vibes. i won’t do anything that draws attention to myself...for once.” jeremiah huffs at his twin’s grin, feeling a hint of relief. he hopes jerome really can get out of this deal if it comes down to that. worry and fear still has him gnawing on his bottom lip, eyes glancing away to the front door again. he takes in a deep breath, his chest expanding, and lets it out through his mouth loudly.

 

“okay.” he finally agrees, despite not really knowing what that is going to entail. he can’t believe they are coming back to gotham. he can’t believe that the circus is still a thing. he can’t believe they are going to be in the same city as them for the first time in years.

 

seven years.

 

“since that’s still two days from now,” jerome says, taking a step closer into jeremiah’s space. “i’m going to go get chinese food and bring it home for dinner. and we will have bruce over tomorrow. then, i’ll get this meeting out of the way. after that, the week and a half of me being couped up with you will begin. sound good?” jeremiah studies jerome’s less tense face, his green eyes boring into his own seemingly identical ones. he almost forgets to respond.

 

“okay.” he repeats his previous single-syllable agreement but with a nod this time. his twin grins at him again, body visibly letting go of tension. the sight has him relaxing even more.

 

if jerome isn’t going to worry, he shouldn’t be too worried, either.

 

-

 

when jerome comes home with chinese, they eat like nothing’s wrong. jeremiah feels light and happy as his twin makes ridiculous jokes and tells stories that would be unbelievable if it wasn’t jerome. he has jerome's eye completely on him, jerome's smile bright and happy for only him to see.  


 

and when it’s late and jeremiah can’t keep his eyes open anymore, he follows jerome to his room and climbs in bed with him. he falls asleep, feeling lucky to know what it’s like now to go to sleep in a real bed with a full stomach, and the comforting warmth of someone he loves next to him.

 

-

 

he dreams that warmth turns to blood all over his clothes, and he can’t figure out if it’s his or jerome’s. either way, he’s choking on it. he’s laying flat, pain shooting through him as hot blood sits in his throat, and when he opens his eyes, he sees nothing. but when he turns his head, he sees the dead cats from a previous dream. they are all still dead, bullet holes through their skulls, eyes unseeing. white eyes, green eyes, and two pairs of blue eyes, staring at him, glazed over. jeremiah knows. jeremiah doesn’t like it. but he can’t look away from the blood pouring out of their heads, the uneasiness and guilt making the blood in his throat feel thicker. he coughs so suddenly that the dream is gone, and he’s back in his reality.

 

his stomach is churning, and he feels too hot, and everything spins when he stands from the bed wobbly.

 

he makes it to the bathroom in time to vomit, stomach emptying out the chinese food and happiness.

 

he passes out on the bathroom floor beside the toilet, the feelings all too much.

 

-

 

“what the fuck?” jerome grumbles out when he walks into the bathroom. he squints in confusion, head still foggy, but registers too clearly the acid stench of vomit, and jeremiah curled up by the toilet. he didn’t flush away the puke, and it makes jerome cringe in disgust. the chinese food must not have agreed with him at some point last night.

 

he flushes the toilet, the noise startling his twin to awareness.

 

“hey, man,” he greets roughly as jeremiah groans. “your back is gonna be screamin’ at ya. let’s get you up and get good pain killers in your system now, yeah?” jerome’s knees pop when he squats down, jeremiah grimacing at the sound with another groan. “guessin’ that chinese offended your stomach. c’mon.” he pats his shoulder and gives guidance when needed as his twin attempts to stand up. he brings jeremiah to his own bed and sits him down, and leaves to get extra strength tylenol. he comes back with water and two pills.

 

jeremiah takes them, looking as if he’s gagging them down in misery, and jerome feels a twist of sympathy. usually his twin loves chinese food. he got the same kind he always gets. he runs a hand through jeremiah’s sweaty hair, feeling how hot his head is.

 

“miah, i think you’re sick,” he mumbles uselessly. obviously he is. obviously jeremiah knows this by now. “maybe no dinner with bruce tonight.” suddenly his twin’s body is alert and his eyes gaze at him sadly. jerome just stares back sternly.

 

“i’ll be fine, j, i-i had a rough night, and-“ jeremiah stops as an expression of pure terror flashes on his face for a few seconds. then, he’s shaking his head vigorously. “i need to see lee. doctor thompkins, i mean.”

 

jerome takes a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing in a cautious sort of concern. jeremiah’s voice has a certain edge to it, as if he’s on the verge of telling him to fuck off if he so much as asks if he’s okay.

 

“alrighty,” he says breathily. “where’s your laptop?” jeremiah locks eyes with him for a few seconds, catching how watery they are and how deep the purple bags are under his eyes.

 

“back in my office by tesla.” jeremiah mumbles, already starting to lay down on top of the covers. jerome silently nods and heads to the back of the house. he sees the laptop, and gives tesla a little wave as he walks back to jeremiah’s bedroom. his twin mumbles his thanks as he opens up the device and proceeds to read doctor thompkin’s latest email ( _that jerome is dying to see the contents of_ ) and then respond in kind. jerome sits patiently at the foot of his bed. he wonders if this is an emergency. he wonders what really made him sick last night.

 

when jeremiah closes his laptop with a shaky sigh, jerome has become antsy.

 

“need me to leave for a while today?” he asks gently. his twin nods.

 

“she said she can come by at three,” jeremiah mumbles. “she’s bringing my new medication to get me started.” jerome blinks, nodding slowly with the dawning realization.

 

“okay,” he says, eyeing jeremiah closely. he stands up slowly due to his body still being so tired and stiff, but he doesn’t leave yet. he leans over and runs a hand through his twin’s curls again, stomach flipping at the sad sigh that escapes jeremiah, his eyes slipping shut. jerome swallows and gives a tight grin. “it’s a little past twelve now, so you have probably two hours to rest. you better set an alarm.” jeremiah hums in response, but doesn’t make any move to do so. jerome sighs and looks over at his twin’s alarm clock, preparing to set it for two in the afternoon. that’s definitely odd for jeremiah.

 

he gets it set and looks at his twin, taking in the despair written on his sleeping face. jerome wishes he knew what he dreamed about last night. he knows it was a nightmare. but if jeremiah doesn’t want to tell him, that’s fine. he can talk to his doctor. that’s what she’s for, right?

 

as jerome leaves his room with a final kiss to his temple, and while he texts bruce to let him know he’s gonna be in the area and he needs to discuss some things, the guilt coming from somewhere deep inside jeremiah weighs him down, the million questions that have always been floating in his own head gnawing at the boundaries between the two of them. jeremiah doesn’t talk about that stuff. jeremiah doesn’t talk about what happened. he certainly can’t tell his doctor.

 

jerome wishes he would just get it out. jerome needs to get it out, too.

 

there’s so much in jerome’s head, too.

 

and as he gets in his car to head out and meet bruce, he considers what it would be like to tell bruce everything. he wants to tell bruce everything. he knows he can’t, of course he can’t, but he likes the kid.

 

he fucking _likes_ this kid.

 

he’s never wanted someone to actually stay that wasn’t jeremiah, and he really doesn’t know what to do with this. he likes bruce’s hair, and his eyes that seem to change from blue to gray to an almost brown, and his seemingly permanent frown. and jerome can admit to feeling pride when he gets him to smile, and gets his eyes to sparkle with amusement, and his chuckle is a sound he doesn’t think he’ll get tired of any time soon.

 

but he also likes frustrating him. he likes the way his eyes go dark and sharp, and the way his eyebrows lower. he likes it when his whole body is rigid with annoyance, just begging to be prodded and fucked with. he likes the way his voice goes low when he’s being serious and the way he stands with his chest expanded to make himself look bigger than he is.

 

jerome thinks there is some true strength in that posture. jerome wants to test that some day.

 

-

 

when his alarm wakes him up with it’s loud screeching, he is already aware of his headache. it’s present just enough to be annoying. he turns it off to stop the noise, rolling over flat on his back. it’s two o’clock. he has an hour.

 

jeremiah gets dressed in a sleepy, drained daze, and brushes his teeth just as absently. he notices his thickening stubble. it has been probably a week since he shaved. since jerome shaved him, that is. he wants jerome to do it again because he’s selfish and childish and doesn’t want to learn. he wants to be taken care of.

 

he’s starting to feel _desperate_.

 

when his doorbell rings, he lets lee in and meets her in the dining room. the therapy room. she smiles warmly, as always, but this time it’s with concerned eyes.

 

“good afternoon, jeremiah,” she greets quietly. he doesn’t know why she’s quiet. “i apologize, but you look...” she shakes her head, eyes roving over his form. “terrible.” he glances down at his plain hunter green button up and black tie, before he remembers he didn’t brush his hair at all. he feels his entire head get hot in embarrassment. jeremiah swallows as he meets lee’s warm brown eyes again.

 

“no, i apologize, it’s been, um,” he flattens his tie with his hand, insecurity getting the best of him. “a-a rough few days. please, sit.” he insists, pulling out her chair for her. he glances at her surprised face and moves around to sit down himself. “i asked you to come to start my medication early.” jeremiah starts professionally. she intertwines her fingers on the table top, tilting her head at him.

 

“yes, that’s what your email said.” he can feel her suspicious gaze cutting through him as he stares at the wood grain of the table.

 

“i’ve been having nightmares,” he blurts out, getting to the point. “i’ve always had them, but-but they have been extreme lately, and i can’t sleep, so i would like to start medication as soon as i can.” lee doesn’t say anything for a few seconds too long.

 

“tell me about some of your nightmares, jeremiah.” lee asks in a firm sort of way, like he doesn’t have a choice. maybe he doesn’t. anxiety has him involuntarily frowning, and then the nightmares start to resurface. lee is patient. she always is.

 

“metaphorical,” he says. “or maybe symbolic. they used to depict my past in vivid detail with minor differences or even major ones. but recently...” he trails off, making sure to visibly swallow. the confusion and disgust rises back up naturally.

 

“would you say there has been a change since you stopped taking your previous medication?” lee presses on knowingly. jeremiah just nods. “that isn’t surprising. medicine alters your brain. take that away suddenly, and there’s going to be quite a startling shift in how it works. more like a jerking, jolting panic. you did something very unsafe for your health.” jeremiah makes his shoulders hunch in a display of shame as he physically recoils, head turning away a little at the bitter tone. lee sighs and reaches a hand across the table. he flinches when her fingers curl around his, but doesn’t move away. “if i start you on this new medication, you can’t do that again. you _can’t_.” she keeps her tone the same, but the gentle touch is meant to remind him that she isn’t here to hurt him, and she isn’t adding on a threat to his safety or his life. she’s simply trying to do the opposite. with that thought, he takes a deep breath and nods.

 

“tell me more about these nightmares,” she says, pulling her hand away. jeremiah feels a mix of relief and distress at the action. “you said they feel symbolic?” as she asks this, she pulls out her notebook and pen, flipping it open past the halfway point. she must have a lot of notes on him. he’s curious.

 

“i wish to figure out what they mean, but i’m not sure that there really is a meaning,” he lies too easily. “they don’t make sense.” _lies, lies, lies_. “can you help?” he looks up at her pleadingly, widening his eyes to make them appear sadder. her face softens with pity, lips pulled into a tight smile.

 

“that’s what i’m here for, jeremiah,” she responds exactly how he knew she would. “start from the first one you remember.” jeremiah sits up a little straighter in his chair, putting his hands in his lap.

 

“i think it’s important to note that they all involve cats,” he starts to explain. “and it started with just one.”

 

-

 

when bruce had said he was just leaving a lunch meeting ( _the second one in a row_ ), jerome didn't expect the person he was meeting with to be so, well. attractive. he's quite a bit older, and jerome thinks he's too attractive and well-put together. it's suspicious. he keeps himself low profile, slouched in his seat behind the steering wheel with his phone out, preparing to call bruce. he watches bruce pat his pocket and gives what looks like an apology to the sharp, exotic looking man. “ _hello?_ ”

 

“don’t let him see me,” jerome says into the phone. “don’t really want people who know you to know me, you know?” bruce’s eyes glance up and scan the parked cars in front of him.

 

“ _yes, i’m headed home now, alfred_ ,” he gives a kind smile to the man, who smiles back warmly with a nod. jerome squints suspiciously when the expression falls flat as soon as bruce looks away. “ _i’ll see you soon_.”

 

“all the way to your right. pick me up.” with that, jerome hangs up, and watches bruce say his goodbyes with the man. the man is watching him with a warmth jerome doesn’t appreciate, and when he finally turns and walks away, bruce starts his car, cueing jerome to get out of his own. bruce sees him as he backs out and pulls up beside him to let him in the passenger side. “who the hell is that?” the harsh question comes out as soon as he shuts the car door. bruce’s eyebrows furrow, but his eyes are lit up in amusement.

 

“why do you care?” he counters back, pulling out onto the street to head to...well, jerome doesn’t know where they’re going. he buckles his seat belt and settles in.

 

“he gave me the creeps,” he says, wiggling his shoulder to imitate chills. “and is weirdly attractive at the same time.” bruce hums at him in what sounds like agreement, leading to jerome’s head snapping to look at him. “hey, don’t agree with me.” bruce shakes his head, lips splitting to reveal his pretty teeth. he can’t look away despite the flare of jealousy.

 

“he’s just a guy who wants me to host a charity thing,” bruce dismisses lightly. “we talked out some details today. i have to give a speech, or whatever.” jerome grunts, as if to say whatever, and looks out the window, recognizing that they are heading to bruce’s house. he doesn’t comment on it. “what were those things you wanted to discuss with me? and why did you want to see me before dinner tonight? it couldn’t wait until then?”

 

“no,” he sighs out, grinding his teeth together in thought. “i need to tell you something that you can’t reveal your knowledge of to jeremiah. and you are going to help me out. capiche?” jerome looks at bruce’s profile, his face contorted into concern and confusion.

 

“you make it sound like a two-way deal, but that isn't the case,” the kid says lowly. “you spill jeremiah’s secrets to me and i have to help you with something most likely jeremiah related. i don’t see what i’m getting out of this besides guilt.” jerome snorts at the response and ignores the way his stomach twists up in agreement.

 

“you and me both if i’m wrong, kid.” jerome grumbles. he doesn’t add more when he sees the gate to wayne manor. when they park in the garage, bruce turns off the car but doesn’t move to get out.

 

“what’s going on?” bruce asks in a tone of voice that says he’s settled on whatever it is jerome wants. does that make him smart or stupid? jerome thinks both.

 

“jeremiah used to be medicated,” he starts to explain. “but as of almost two months ago, a little before i met you, he decided to stop taking them altogether. which, naturally, has fucked him up a little.”

 

“right,” bruce agrees with concern. “you have to slowly ease off medication.” jerome grins at him, nodding slowly.

 

“yeah, and he’s supposed to be the _smart_ one,” he mumbles. “i think he’s up to something.” jerome finally admits, glancing away from the kid. he doesn’t want to see any reactions.

 

“up to something?” bruce asks gruffly. “what do you think he’s up to?”

 

“suddenly he wants to start new medication.” jerome says with a sigh. “and i know what you're thinking. ‘but jerome! that’s good, he needs medication!’. and you're right. i agree. but _that’s_ the thing,” jerome _does_ look at bruce now and sees they both have a certain edge to their expressions. “he _hates_ being on medication. and now, suddenly, he wants to be on it, and is telling me _exactly_ what i want to hear. i just don’t buy it.” bruce bites at his bottom lip with eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought.

 

“so, you think he’s up to something? do you think he’s trying to trick you?” the kid asks, seeming to be in disbelief. jerome clenches his jaw.

 

“he’s better at manipulating than either of us could ever be combined, bruce.” he confirms quietly. he doesn’t want to get fully into this, but bruce needs to know enough. “i need you to keep an eye out for anything odd, or weird behavior. it doesn’t matter if you are doubtful about it being anything serious. it could be. so tell me everything that rubs you the wrong way, got it?” he hates that his chest clenches in discomfort and his own guilt at essentially spying on his twin using the only other person he cares about and trusts.

 

but jeremiah isn’t being truthful with him. he’s never been like this before, and jerome needs any information he can get, regardless of how he gets it. he eyes bruce as the kid stares darkly out the windshield in silence. then, he’s nodding slowly, eyes moving to meet his gaze intensely.

 

“what bad signs or habits should i immediately be worried about?”

 

\- - -

 

_the world's a little blurry,_

_or maybe it's my eyes._

_honey, what's your hurry?_

_won't you stay inside?_

_where did you go?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey! what did you guys think of this little chapter? i know not much happens, sorry if it was anti-climatic /: but i wanted to get a little thing out here for you guys to read as a thank you for being so kind in the comments and being patient. what are your thoughts on the little things hidden in the chapter? favorite part??? let me know literally every single thought you had,,, i dare you . you can come scream at me about anything related to these three/gotham on tumblr, i made it to talk to you guys and interact more personally!! @ gay-thom
> 
> i love you all so very much. 💚💚💚💚💚💚next chapter is gonna be a wild ride. 🤠


	20. the surprise visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! sorry this took so long!!!  
> it was supposed to only be half a chapter length but ... i went a bit crazier than i expected. plus, i think u guys deserve the almost 13k words for having to wait so long. i think u guys will like it (;  
> enjoy reading guys!!! ❤️
> 
> warning - slightly explicit content and unhealthy thoughts acted upon

_and the mind leaves the body,_

_and floats higher and higher._

_ if i can't touch your body, _

_ can i touch the sky? _

 

\- - -

 

bruce closes his car door and locks it when jerome’s door closes, too. he approaches the house behind the redhead, feeling butterflies flutter around his stomach. they float up into his chest and swarm his throat, and he subconsciously swallows in an attempt to keep them down. he doesn’t know why he is so anxious about dinner with the twins. well, okay, maybe he _does_ know why. he might have some high hopes for how the night ends, and they may be _too_ high, but he can’t put a great opportunity (even if he created it, that doesn’t matter) like this to waste. 

 

while jerome unlocks the door, he runs a hand through his loose, wavy hair, hoping it looks okay. jeremiah has started wearing his hair loosely, and it manages to always look breathtaking. 

 

jeremiah. 

 

the things jerome told him about in the car earlier still has his head spinning. he knew jeremiah struggled, but he never would have guessed the extent of it. hearing jerome warn him about the paranoia, and the extremes jeremiah can sometimes go to based on pure fear, was shocking, to say the least. he wants to know what happened to him. 

 

what happened to jeremiah to lead to his ptsd, agoraphobia, and intense paranoia?

 

the door buzzes and opens, and then the redhead ushers him in excitedly, asking him to take his shoes off and leading him to the kitchen with a hand on his lower back. it’s all such a rush. jeremiah is facing away, busy with something on the counter. the food smells familiar. 

 

“we aren’t chefs, which is what you’re used to, with your butler and all that,” jerome teases as bruce sits at a stool. he stares anxiously at jeremiah’s back, the moment feeling similar to his birthday. jeremiah has nice clothes on this time, though, and he isn’t making hamburgers. “but we are pretty decent, i’d say.” bruce does snicker at jerome, not wanting to ignore him while stressing out about jeremiah’s presence. 

 

“you say ‘we’ like you helped,” the other redhead mumbles out, the first words he’s spoken. when he turns enough to look at bruce, he has to swallow and keep his eyes focused on jeremiah’s. he wasn’t expecting the stubble. “sorry to be rude and not greet you. hello,” the man says, turning back around to continue what he was doing. 

 

“i helped, okay?” jerome says quietly to him. “don’t listen to ‘em.” and bruce can feel jeremiah rolling his eyes without even seeing the action. he suppresses a smile. 

 

“you kept eating the cheese, jerome,” jeremiah says accusingly. “i can’t make grilled cheese without cheese.” bruce _knew_ the smell was familiar. he perks up without really meaning to, and jerome picks up on the shift. 

 

“oooh! someone likes grilled cheese,” he says happily, poking bruce in the side. he squirms away, feeling slightly embarrassed. jeremiah moves from his spot to open a cabinet, and sure enough, there is a pile of grilled cheese sandwiches sliced up on a plate. 

 

“i’m, uh, glad you like grilled cheese, but, as jerome pointed out, it might not be as good as you’re expecting,” jeremiah says somewhat blandly, obviously covering how nervous he is to be serving bruce.he feels slightly bad for making the man nervous. is he that intimidating?  


 

“grilled cheese is my favorite, actually,” he says, jerome humming in surprise. “my parents would make it special for me as a kid. they would add lots of extra stuff to it.” bruce says softly, feeling the nostalgia in his chest. jeremiah is looking at him with a mixture of surprise and nervousness, most likely not ready for a casual mention of his parents. jerome doesn’t seem to notice. 

 

“of _course_ your grilled cheese was _special_ ,” the man groans while throwing an arm around his shoulders. the roughness jostles him, a smile playing at his own lips when he catches jerome’s eye roll. “you probably didn’t even call it grilled cheese. did your butler add, like, three different goat cheeses on homemade wheat bread, or somethin’?” jeremiah says jerome’s name in warning, trying to cue him to shut up, but bruce just shakes his head in amusement. 

 

“it’s fine, jeremiah,” he soothes him with a laugh, turning his attention back to jerome who is eyeing him expectantly. “no, actually. i tried that, but turns out i hate goat cheese.” the redhead laughs and gives his shoulders a squeeze before moving away toward his twin. jeremiah shakes his head at them disapprovingly, but his eyes look happy. 

 

“what did they add to your grilled cheese, bruce?” jeremiah asks, in an attempt to be more serious. bruce almost snorts when he hits jerome with the towel he’s wiping his hands on when he tries to swipe a bit of sandwich. jerome looks offended, but jeremiah ignores him, returning his full focus to bruce.

 

“um, branston pickle and aioli,” bruce finally answers. jeremiah blinks blankly and jerome is quick to respond in his place. 

 

“the fuck is eloyli?” jerome mispronounces terribly, face contorted in confusion. 

 

“eye- _ole_ -lee,” he corrects slowly. “and it’s a mix of homemade mayonnaise and garlic.” jeremiah frowns, not seeming to like the idea, and jerome nods as if he loves the it. 

 

“what is branston pickle?” jeremiah now asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head in curiosity. bruce has to think about this one. 

 

“it’s like a british sandwich spread,” he starts off. “alfred actually introduced it, of course. it has a bunch of vegetables in it, but i can’t remember what kind exactly. it’s better than it sounds,” this time, the twin’s expressions switch. bruce is finding it hard to not smile. 

 

“that sounds,” jeremiah starts to say. “rich.” jerome busts out laughing, and this time, bruce lets himself smile widely. jeremiah’s eyes go soft while looking at him, and it makes his heart swell up like a balloon. 

 

bruce is finding it hard to believe that jeremiah is secretly planning something behind jerome’s back. 

 

“bruce, darling, we grew up poor,” jerome explains as jeremiah turns away again. “we were lucky to get a sandwich at _all_.” jerome says it lightheartedly, but hearing it makes him wonder just how hard their childhood was. 

 

“enough about that, j,” jeremiah says with a slight bite to his tone. “we aren’t poor anymore, and that’s what matters. sandwiches are completely available and ready,” the redhead sits three plates on the island along with the plate of sandwiches. “there are french fries still in the oven.”

 

“so where are we eatin’? the living room?” jerome asks with a grin. bruce feels a bit uncomfortable when jeremiah looks at his twin in annoyance without saying anything. finally, jerome caves. “fine. i’ll just stand here while you guys sit,” jeremiah huffs and rolls his eyes at his twin's sarcastic tone. 

 

“we have a dining room, jerome. it’s perfectly capable of seating the three of us.” jeremiah says, already picking up the plate of sandwiches to move to the dining room. bruce realizes that he has never actually been in the dining room, and judging by the way jerome’s face is scrunched up in a weird state of confusion, they haven’t eaten in there in a while. they share a look when jeremiah vanishes, and he can’t help but swallow anxiously again. jerome sighs and picks up the stack of plates. 

 

“c’mon. he won’t be weird with both of us around, so might as well enjoy the meal,” he says with a grin. bruce wordlessly follows him through the living room entry, taking a sharp left into what turns out to be a nice dining area. jeremiah has just set the plate in the center of the small table when the oven beeps obnoxiously. the redhead squeezes past them, and he takes a moment to really take in the new room. the table meant to seat four looks polished, new, but must still be occasionally used judged by the chairs still pulled out slightly on opposite sides. there’s no windows, something bruce has noticed about every room in the house, and the walls aren’t decorated. the blank, dark gray cement walls make it feel dark. 

 

“why are there no windows in the house?” bruce mumbles to jerome as he takes a seat in one of the chairs that was still pushed in all the way. jerome sits directly across from him, and bruce doesn’t miss the way his body hesitates or the way his eyes darken. it vanishes quickly enough, though, the redhead sighing heavily as he flops into the chair and smiles. 

 

“paranoia thing,” he grumbles, scooting forward. “worried someone will get in.” bruce understands that aspect, but still has so many questions, especially given the small reaction from jerome. 

 

“he could put security on the windows like the doors have,” he points out, deciding to test the boundaries of the topic a little. the redhead stares over bruce’s shoulder and then leans forward on the table. 

 

“look, kid, he doesn’t like windows, and he has his reasons, so i don’t push,” jerome whispers with a serious expression. “we all have things in our past we don’t like to think about or have happen again, ya know?” bruce’s stomach does something funny at that, partially because jeremiah said the same thing, and partially because he completely understands. jerome leans back as jeremiah reenters. bruce grins at him, trying to re-lift the darkened atmosphere he created. jeremiah gives him a soft hesitant one back before sitting the hot pan of fries next to the sandwiches on a potholder. 

 

“you guys can go ahead and start eating, i’m going to grab drinks. what do you want, jerome?” he asks kindly, slipping off his oven mitt. bruce finds it oddly endearing to see jeremiah cook and host. 

 

“is alcohol an option?” jerome asks, and as jeremiah draws in a loud, annoyed breath, preparing to most _definitely_ say no, jerome quickly interrupts. “good, i would like one of those little canned peach margaritas i bought,” he gives a toothy grin, and when bruce looks at the other redhead, he smiles apologetically. the man shakes his head at them and points at bruce. 

 

“no, you have to drive home,” jeremiah says sternly. bruce is quick to correct him.

 

“actually,” he draws out slowly, and when both twin’s eyes stare directly at him, his own lower to the table, fiddling with his intertwined hands. “i told alfred i’d be staying the night with my friend, tommy. i figured it would give me a fail-safe if i go home at a weird time tonight, or,” he flicks his eyes up to meet jerome’s, who’s eyes are lit up with excited disbelief and something much darker. bruce swallows and looks down again, smile playing at his lips. “or if we drink a lot with dinner tonight.”

 

jerome slowly begins to smile while shaking his head, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. bruce can’t help watching. 

 

“i’m-uh, i’ll get drinks,” jeremiah fumbles out quickly, and is gone so suddenly bruce is a bit stunned. he blinks at the empty space next to him. jerome scoffs. 

 

“can’t fuckin’ handle this,” he grumbles. “i’m, uh, gonna go chat him up real quick. you dropped quite the bombshell on ‘em.” he continues around a laugh, standing up slowly. jerome can’t stop smiling. 

 

“sorry if it’s a bit,” bruce pauses, attempting to find the right phrasing. “ _forward_ of me to assume.” he bites his lip and lowers his eyes again. 

 

“no, you weren’t wrong to assume, like, at all,” jerome says reassuringly. his stomach turns warmly knowing jerome had his own assumptions. “miah just didn’t assume anything. he’s still new to, uh, literally everything happening at this very moment, so,” he points to the doorway silently and starts to head out, but hesitates. “i already had plenty of things in mind when it came down to activities. hope you’re feeling up for it,” jerome winks and feels large amounts of joy at the pink flush on the kid’s cheeks as he struts into the kitchen. 

 

jeremiah is leaning on his hands against the counter, back bent and head bowed in a posture of stress. jerome walks loudly enough to not scare him. 

 

“you really thought nothing would happen tonight, huh?” he asks lowly, leaning his lower back against the counter next to his twin. “i thought i was being obvious when i said i couldn’t wait for tonight, but i shouldn’t really assume with you-“

 

“we haven’t - j, you and i-“ jeremiah interrupts quietly. he lets out a shaky sigh. jerome tilts his head, wondering what is actually stressing him out. “we can’t- _we_ can’t-“ he moves a hand back and forth between them for emphasis. “do anything, we haven’t tried anything, or- _god_ , i feel so awkward, jerome, what are _we_ supposed to do?” his twin’s words are quick and stuttery, and _ah_ , he understands what’s actually going on now. 

 

“oooooh,” he draws out quietly, still being wary of bruce in the other room. “okay, i see. well, it’s simple. _we_ ,” he mimics jeremiah’s earlier hand movement. “could just do nothing. it won’t matter, it’s not a big deal.” jerome frowns when he rolls his eyes at him. “what?” he snaps out, his eyes instantly going apologetic when jeremiah tenses up. “you just gotta tell me what you’re freaking out about.” jerome crosses his arms as jeremiah stands up straight, looking over his shoulder in the general direction of the dining room nervously. 

 

“i don’t know how i feel about-about _seeing_ each other,” jerome licks his lips, watching jeremiah’s face break out into a blotchy flush. “it’s still new territory, in every way. we didn’t try to-to _kiss_ , or find out if we are even comfortable being this... _intimate_ ,” jeremiah continues, obviously very distressed about this turn of events he somehow didn’t fully expect. jerome sighs and attempts to think of a response. sure, jerome couldn’t care less about jeremiah seeing him naked, because what does it really matter? but he does understand his twin’s hesitance, with the nudity being a little less of a casual accident and a lot more of a sexual occurrence. the kissing thing is understandable, too. jerome is an excellent outside-of-the-box thinker, though. 

 

“okay, how about this,” he starts to say, turning his body to face jeremiah more. “i’ll use my free pass during our fun with bruce tonight, and that will be it...for now,” when jeremiah looks ready to interrupt, he continues. “and you don’t have to get naked in front of bruce with me there if you don’t want to yet. look, miah, we’re _twins_ ,” jerome reminds him. “i already _definitely_ know what your dick looks like, but wanting to wait is fine, that’s all up to you.” he gives him a pat on the shoulder and heads back to the dining room. 

 

“i’m not giving you the peach margarita,” jeremiah calls out, making him pause. “that flavor does _not_ go with what we’re eating.” jerome giggles fondly and flips him off over his shoulder before rejoining a distressed looking bruce. the kid deflates a bit upon seeing his happy expression. 

 

“you were gone a while,” bruce points out, untangling his hands. jerome sits down with a sigh. 

 

“yeah, well, we had some things to discuss about the, uh,” he winks. “ _contents_ of tonight for you. needless to say, we have it mostly figured out.” jerome’s smile grows along with bruce’s pupils. 

 

“is that so?” he asks in a low, serious tone, with a spark of excitement in his blue eyes. or are they gray? he tilts his head, unable to make out much color around the deep black of his pupils. maybe they are brown today. “why only mostly figured out?” jerome leans forward, bringing himself closer to the teen, who raises his chin almost challengingly. 

 

“well, i can’t ruin all of the surprises for you, can i?” he says teasingly. before bruce can respond, jeremiah finally resurfaces from his breakdown in the kitchen, managing to carry three glasses at once. he sets down the one in his left hand, then grabs the right glass with his newly free hand and sets it down, and then unfurls the one tucked into his elbow, the movements managing to be graceful somehow. jerome would have definitely dropped or spilled them all. jeremiah’s weird interest in juggling when they were kids hasn’t faltered it seems. he realizes none of them have said a word, and notices the way bruce is watching jeremiah closely, silently impressed. jerome voices his approval. 

 

“bravo, dear brother,” he says clapping a few times. jeremiah rolls his eyes. “quite the showman, huh?” jerome has been enjoying jeremiah’s permanent flush, and judging by the way bruce’s eyes are focused intently on his twin, he’s enjoying it, too. 

 

“you’re _making_ this into a show,” he quips back. “now, can we eat? i’m hungry.” when his twin moves to sit next to him, he feels somewhat shocked. he should have sat next to bruce, right? bruce doesn’t seem bothered, though, deciding to take a sip from the offered glass. 

 

“i think we’re _all_ hungry,” he mumbles the joke gruffly and smiles deviously as bruce chokes slightly on his drink. jeremiah just sighs and reaches out to grab a few sandwich slices, ignoring the innuendo completely. bruce clears his throat. 

 

“is this a bloody mary?” he asks, clearly trying to move away from any inappropriate topics. jeremiah smiles gratefully at bruce for it. 

 

“a cheap version of one, yes,” he answers. jerome picks up on the twitch of fingers. why is he so insecure about serving bruce? “it doesn’t have every ingredient, but it suited the meal, i guess,” jeremiah cuts himself off by shaking his head minisculey. when he glances at bruce, the teen hasn’t seemed to notice due to his grilled cheese distraction. he shifts a bit anxiously and nudges his foot against jeremiah’s and lets it rest there. 

 

maybe jeremiah needs to get a little tipsy. it might make his twin feel less antsy. it will certainly make _him_ feel less antsy. he leans forward to grab his own unhealthy amount of sandwiches and waits for jeremiah to finish getting fries so he can get some for himself. jerome digs in and sips his drink leisurely as bruce and jeremiah softly discuss the wayne enterprises engineers, and something about emailing suggestions for the thing they are making. jerome isn’t really listening. instead, he’s letting the vodka turn his brain into dizzy mush and watching the two down theirs as well. it’s working quite well, actually. weirdly well. 

 

jeremiah is drinking his especially fast, jerome notices, but doesn’t care enough to tell him to slow down. _he’s nervous_ , jerome thinks. _the alcohol will help_. bruce is drinking his in small sips, but has drank most of it already. they’ve eaten all the food (or rather, _jerome_ has eaten all of the food), and jeremiah and bruce are starting to get red in the cheeks, so he assumes the vodka is starting to work for them, too. 

 

now that jerome is really thinking about it, the taste of tomato and whatever else jeremiah put in it wasn’t very strong in comparison to the vodka. he tilts his head suspiciously at his twin, who eventually takes notice. jeremiah blinks at him. 

 

“how much vodka did you put in our drinks?” he asks, voice not quite slurring but sounding a bit different to his own ears. jeremiah stares into his almost empty glass almost guiltily. 

 

“i don’t know,” his twin mumbles. “enough.” jerome laughs and turns his body towards him with a look of disbelief. 

 

“you drugged us!” he accuses jokingly. jeremiah looks up at him in offense. “but with _vodka_!” bruce lets out a giggle, and jerome looks him in disbelief this time for the odd noise. “and now, billionaire brat over here is _giggling_.” he thumbs at the brunet as jeremiah shakes his head and avoids eye contact. 

 

“i just thought it’d be much better to stop at one drink in total,” jeremiah explains slowly. “even though that meant adding a bit more vodka than one normally would to a bloody mary of this size.” he finishes quickly in a mumble. jerome lets out a noise of triumph. 

 

“a-ha! i fuckin’ knew it, you little punk,” he lightly kicks jeremiah under the table, his twin giving an indignant ‘ _hey_!’. 

 

“you still drank it, though, didn’t you?” jeremiah points out a bit childishly. “i don’t think anyone’s complaining.” they both look pointedly at bruce, who just widens his eyes and shakes his head. 

 

“no, not at all, _but_ ,” the kid pauses, pushing his plate forward. “as fantastic as dinner was, are we done?” bruce looks up at him with quite an open and bold expression of absolute want, and it has his entire body lighting up excitedly. 

 

“yes,” jeremiah breathes out in place of jerome, who is already standing up from his chair. bruce and jeremiah stand up as well. 

 

“my bed,” jerome says quickly, but slows down when he notices bruce reaching out a hand to his twin, who takes it gently. it’s a sweet action. not one he would ever do, he can admit. he’s never been sentimental about sex. he doesn’t comment on it, but catches jeremiah’s gaze, giving him a smile. he’s sure it looks goofy, but when the two walk past him to head to his room, his twin grabs a hold of his wrist with a goofy smile of his own. 

 

“i think you drank too fast, miah,” he says through a giggle. “you’re smilin’.” jerome busts out laughing when bruce’s head whips around eagerly, probably hoping to get a glimpse of jeremiah’s toothy smile, but before the kid can really see, jeremiah has switched to a closed lipped grin. apparently he’s embarrassed to have been called out. 

 

he hears him mumble ‘ _shut up_ ’, but his mind slides back into darker territory when bruce opens his bedroom door and walks in backwards, dragging them in like a weird attached conga line. the thought alone almost makes him laugh again, because he is fucking _hilarious_ sometimes, but then bruce tugs jeremiah closer and kisses him, lifting both hands to slide into his twin’s hair. jeremiah stumbles into it, and wow, jerome doesn’t think he will ever get used to the odd, jarring sight. it’s like watching himself with bruce all over again, which is the odd part, but because its jeremiah, it’s jarring and almost unreal. jerome decides he’s thinking too much about what he’s seeing and not physically doing enough. 

 

jeremiah’s hand slips away from his wrist just as he starts to move more towards them. he’s stopped, however, by the hand that just left being placed on his chest. his twin breaks his kiss with bruce to look him up and down, an action that is surprising to say the least, and then leans around to whisper something to bruce. he can’t hear it, but knows it’s definitely about him. 

 

jeremiah pulls back, his body feeling hot and shaky, and looks at bruce for confirmation. bruce’s pupils are completely blown, a red blush high on his cheeks as he nods, a slow grin spreading across his face. jeremiah blinks a few times at the sight, and thinks jerome was right about drinking too fast. 

 

he may have spiked his own drink an extra amount. 

 

bruce pulls away from him and swiftly starts to lead jerome towards his bed, sitting him down on it. his twin looks up at bruce with a bit of confusion but also wonder, like he can’t quite fathom the sight of him. jeremiah can understand that. when jerome’s eyes land on him, he has a questioning expression. he just shrugs at him flimsily as if he has no clue what’s going on. jerome scoffs at him but is distracted again when bruce pushes him back more and has him lay down. 

 

he stands and watches, unsure how to even be an active role in his own plan. bruce, thankfully, invites him onto the bed as well and murmurs to him to lay down, too. he lays on his right side to face jerome, who is on his back looking as if he’s about to commit arson for the first time. jeremiah shakes away the oddly specific reference and refocuses his fuzzy mind to the way bruce is now kissing jerome. it’s passionate and on the rougher side, and when jerome lets out a deep moan, he feels a flare of arousal and he thinks maybe jealousy. 

 

he looks away and marvels at the sight of bruce grinding down on jerome too gently, as if he’s trying to torture his twin. maybe he is. he watches the way jerome’s hands slide down bruce’s waist and settle on grabbing at his hips in an attempt to make bruce grind harder without actually having to ask for it. jeremiah wants to touch, too. he knows he’s technically allowed to, but he still feels hesitant. he supposes the alcohol wasn’t quite as helpful as he wanted it to be. that, or it hasn’t fully settled into his bloodstream yet. 

 

“you don’t gotta wallow in jealousy, dear,” he hears jerome’s gravelly voice mutter. he slowly looks at him, the words taking a few seconds longer than usual to register. his brain got caught on the sound of his voice rather than the actual words. “you can touch and kiss and whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’ ‘bout. c’mon,” jerome’s right hand fumbles for his and pulls it to bruce’s body. “you know you’re allowed, we’ve been through this before. let go again, for real- _fuck_ ,” jeremiah can feel bruce grind down particularly hard, sending even a jolt through his body at the thought of how it must feel. he closes his eyes and slides his hand under bruce’s loose sweater, running his palm over his lower back. his skin is soft and warm and bruce is moving so fluently. 

 

“this wasn’t the plan,” jerome says, sounding slightly distressed. 

 

“don’t care,” jeremiah mumbles, fluttering his eyes back open. “you got nothing last time. this time, it’s all about you.” jerome turns his head to gaze at him in awe, and jeremiah does the same right back, because jerome is actually starting to blush. his twin giggles and looks away. 

 

“i’m finding i don’t care, either. holy _shit_ , bruce-“ jerome cuts himself off with a groan, and jeremiah feels like he’s flickering out of reality. 

 

“you talk too much,” he hears bruce say before things start to feel what he can best describe as flowy. he’s starting to question his sanity and if this is even really happening. he helps bruce take off jerome’s t-shirt, the motion ruffling his hair. jeremiah rolls in a little closer, one of his hands joining both of bruce’s to explore jerome’s scarred abdomen. he studies the teen’s face and the way his eyes look sad. the lust doesn’t go away, though, but how could it? jerome is fit, attractive, even with the marks littered all over him. 

 

bruce slides further down jerome’s body and undoes his jeans, his erection obvious before they are even yanked down past his hips. jeremiah and bruce’s eyes are stuck to the front of jerome’s dark green briefs, and he feels his breath catch in his throat. he slides his hand over jerome’s rapid heartbeat. 

 

this is real. 

 

jerome settles a hand over his as he gazes lustfully at bruce, who continues the removal of his twin’s jeans. when the teen hovers his face over the bulge and looks up through his lashes at his twin, he feels jerome’s surge of hot, raw arousal, his free hand stroking at bruce’s face gently. 

 

“all about me, huh?” jerome murmurs roughly. “did you tell him to give me a blowjob?” jerome is smiling down at bruce. 

 

“i told him to make you feel good,” he answers quietly. “to do whatever it takes to-“ he stops, swallowing around the embarrassment of saying to jerome what he said so bluntly to bruce not even five minutes ago. he looks down at the teen to avoid his twin’s knowing look, but the sight of bruce watching him with glittering eyes throws him off anyways. bruce settles a warm hand on his outter thigh in what seems like possessiveness, but that isn’t quite right. it’s different. it’s not the same as jerome’s touches. 

 

bruce always touches him with intent, but still gently and so caring, like he-

 

_no_ , he thinks viciously to himself. he doesn’t want to think the l-word for bruce. it’s not something to even consider yet, not for jeremiah to jump to conclusions about. 

 

“boy, you really know how to show me you love me, miah,” jerome laughs out, bringing him back to their current situation again. his heart clenches at his word choice. “why don’t you show me, too, brucie?” his twin’s voice dips back into a lustful tone as he runs his fingers through the teen’s hair. bruce’s eyes darken as his fingers hook into jerome’s underwear band and starts to tug them down. jeremiah briefly closes his eyes, mind slowly catching up to the fact that he’s about to actually witness this. 

 

he tilts his head up and reopens his eyes to look at jerome’s face, to catch his initial reaction. he’s not left disappointed. he mentally captures the moment jerome smiles in bliss, and the way his eyes close for a few seconds, and the sound of him moaning deeply the first time bruce touches him. jeremiah is hypnotized by it. he blinks dazedly and glances down at bruce and-

 

oh. 

 

bruce’s tongue is pressed flat against the head of jerome’s cock, the teen moaning as his twin tugs on his hair. and when he makes eye contact with jeremiah, _oh_ , it’s a sight he will never forget. bruce manages to smile with his eyes at what must be a dumbfounded expression on jeremiah’s face, and then swirls his tongue and wraps his lips around the head. jeremiah is stunned, body frozen at the somehow unexpected sight. 

 

sure, he knew a blowjob was bound to happen, but actually _seeing_ it happen? that’s a whole new experience. seeing jerome naked and aroused is new enough on it’s own. now, he’s watching bruce wayne, a billionaire c.e.o. of his own company and his very own _boss_ , bob his head eagerly with his mouth around his twin brother’s cock. 

 

jeremiah lets out a heavy breath, eyes fluttering at how oddly pretty bruce manages to look doing something he thinks is a bit disgusting and crude. but bruce seems happy to be doing it, and jeremiah doesn’t want him to stop anytime soon. he can’t imagine jerome does, either. 

 

hesitantly, he takes in the sight in and of itself that is his brother naked, and realizes dumbly that jerome was right. jeremiah, of course, figured they would be the same size and everything, but hung on to the insecurity that jerome is better in every way, and would somehow be bigger. he’s not. he feels relieved and vaguely wonders if bruce would enjoy his as much as he’s enjoying jerome’s. 

 

jerome’s right arm, the one closest to jeremiah, lifts and rubs a thumb at the corner of bruce’s mouth. jerome curses under his breath, and he vaguely wonders again how enjoyable all of this is. 

 

he sits up on an elbow slowly and reaches his right hand down to gently pet at bruce’s hair, too. jerome’s hold on the dark waves vanishes and lets jeremiah take over, but he isn’t sure what else to do. he’s not even sure why he did it at all. his body is in the lead this time instead of his mind, and it’s the alcohol, of course, but he doesn’t feel drunk - he feels like he’s in a dream. 

 

bruce’s dark eyes are focused up on his twin as his mouth continues to do it’s work. jeremiah looks at jerome now, too, slightly hovering above him. he feels almost dizzy when jerome touches his cheek with adoring eyes, his fingers sliding across his jaw and tilting his chin up, bringing their faces closer. he exhales against his twin’s mouth and jerome smiles. 

 

“why’d ya stop, bruce?” jerome suddenly drawls out. “are we too distracting?” jeremiah’s breathing stutters, jerome’s eyes dark and bright all at the same time. 

 

“yes,” bruce breathes out, jeremiah exhaling shakily at the admission, at the honest weight of it. “of course you are. how could i - how could i _not_ get distracted by that?” bruce says, sounding as if he can’t breathe either, and that’s ridiculous to jeremiah. what’s so breathtaking about him? he’s nothing special, not in comparison to-

 

_we’re twins_ , jerome’s voice reminds him in his head. jeremiah looks at jerome pleadingly, not really too sure what he wants (and yes, he does know, he does, but he shouldn’t), and jerome lets out a breathy laugh, his grip on his chin getting tighter. 

 

 _bruce couldn’t take his eyes off of_ **_us_**.

 

jeremiah lets jerome pull him closer, his heart racing but his body moving without a care. he rests a hand over jerome’s heart again, partially to steady himself and partially to feel how excited he is as well. his twin sits up on his elbows, too, bringing their faces more level, lips still formed into a small smile, and it looks so arrogant.

 

 _he didn’t want to miss a single moment of_ **_us_**.

 

“free pass,” is all jerome says before he closes the last inch of space between their mouths. jeremiah freezes at the warm, soft press of jerome’s lips against is, the bump of his nose, the hot, tight grip on his chin. something definitely begins to break inside of him, a surge of arousal pumping through his veins at just this small contact, and it’s all so much - and it’s all not enough. 

 

his eyes flutter close as he pushes a little closer and kisses back, jerome inhaling loudly through his nose in response to his response. he digs his fingernails into jerome’s chest, and then his twin is pulling away, but it was barely even anything, was _barely_ a kiss, it can’t already be _over_ , not yet - 

 

he stops himself from chasing jerome’s lips when bruce lets out a breathy “ _oh my god_ ,” reminding him they aren’t at all alone. jeremiah’s eyes slowly open again and catch jerome’s slightly stunned expression. he feels hot all over and his head is kind of spinning again, and then jerome’s eyes are rolling back in pleasure. bruce has started licking up the length of jerome again, eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and jeremiah feels so much want that it _hurts_. 

 

he wants to be kissed and touched and wanted. he wants to kiss and touch and show how much he also wants.

 

jerome’s hand strokes his cheek sweetly but he can’t look away from bruce. the teen’s cheeks are flushed and his hair has curled on his forehead messily. his lips are already starting to look puffy from the stretching, and they shine with spit and most likely pre-cum as well. 

 

jeremiah wants to kiss him. 

 

bruce locks eyes with him as strokes his hand a few times up and down jerome’s cock while mouthing at the head, both of them moaning, and he must see it in jeremiah’s eyes, in his expression, in the way he licks his lips, because suddenly bruce is pulling his mouth away and grabbing at him. he doesn’t even bother hesitating (the liquid courage is finally starting to truly work), and he twists his body so that he’s more horizontal. 

 

his face is probably too close to jerome’s cock, but bruce is leaning over it, so he doesn’t need to worry about it, it isn’t weird. it _isn’t_. bruce cups his face with one hand and slides their mouths together in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss and-

 

jeremiah knows why he’s kissing him like this, and he knows why bruce is kissing him like his, and he doesn’t know how to feel about bruce knowing why he’s kissing him, too, but when their tongues bump into each other, he tastes what has to be jerome. his mind goes somewhat vacant; the only thing he can think about now is bruce’s tongue, bruce’s spit, bruce’s mouth, jerome, jerome, jerome.

 

he moans deeply, pushing closer, licking into bruce’s mouth just as desperately as the teen is. it tastes salty, and he wants to ignore what it is, but he also doesn’t care. it’s jerome. he’s tasting what jerome tastes like through bruce. 

 

this isn’t where he thought the night was going. 

 

not knowing what else to do to show he’s enjoying this, he grasps frantically at bruce’s jaw one-handedly, wanting him so much closer than he is. jerome’s fingers entangle in his hair just as bruce breaks the kiss, his gaze hazy and wild. jeremiah probably has the same look, and a sad noise slips out before he can stop himself. 

 

“jesus christ,” jerome grits out behind him, voice starting to go hoarse already. “c’mere, miah. come back up here,” jerome says as bruce lowers himself back down, right hand visibly squeezing around the base of his cock. jeremiah fumbles back around to his twin, the vodka making his limbs heavy now. jerome’s voice sounds a bit slurry as well. _good_ , jeremiah thinks. _good_. 

 

jerome’s mouth opens and abrubtly closes, pleasure coursing through him all over again as bruce swallows down half the length of his cock, the teen’s tongue doing wonders in the process. he tightens a hand in his hair and has to curse at himself so he doesn’t hurt the kid. he wants to force him down, all the way down, and hold him there until tears spill from his eyes and he can’t _breathe_ -

 

jeremiah looks at him, and his twin looks fucked out already. his lips are swollen from the abuse bruce just inflicted and his hair is a disaster. he glances down his body and sees the bulge in his slacks, and moves his gaze to bruce, who has a hand against himself. 

 

jeremiah wouldn’t touch himself in front of them, and bruce is quite busy, so-

 

_no_ , he scolds his drunk, horny brain. _miah said nothing can happen between us_. bruce hums, the vibrations feeling particularly good, and _jesus_ , how is bruce even good at this? he watches his cock disappear in and out of bruce’s stretched lips, and what he can’t fit into his mouth is being stroked roughly, and jerome thinks maybe this is where bruce belongs forever. he looks perfect like this. 

 

a dark thought slips into his head out of nowhere, his stomach twisting hotly at the sudden vision of blood around bruce’s mouth, lips splitting and cracking and leaving pinkish stains on his cock as he continues worshipping it anyways. he groans and hears jeremiah’s breath hitching next to his ear, the sound getting his attention again. 

 

when he really thinks back on their conversation earlier, jeremiah himself never actually _said_ they shouldn’t do anything. jeremiah never gave any confirmation about- well, _anything_ , really. 

 

_no_ , jerome scolds himself harshly again, licking his lips at the blotchy flush on jeremiah’s cheeks and down around to his jaw. _don’t push him again_. his twin is watching bruce moan and suck with such focus that jerome can’t help but giggle. 

 

“why do i got the feelin’ you’re tryin’ to learn?” he asks his twin lowly and quietly, hand tugging at bruce’s dark hair and drawing out a whimper. he studies the way jeremiah swallows hard and blinks a few times. he studies the way his bottom lip trembles, a barely there quiver. “you gonna try this on brucie here sometime?” he asks a little louder so that the mentioned teen can hear it. bruce picks up in speed, sucking harder and yeah, he is really holding himself back here. 

 

but when jeremiah gazes at jerome, it’s such a deadpan expression of what almost seems blank. his eyes are unfocused and his exhale is shaking along with his lip still. his twin’s eyes slowly rove down his face, eyelashes fluttering before he’s quickly focusing back on bruce again, breathing louder than before, like he’s nervous. jeremiah slowly licks his lips, tongue peeking out and lingering, and _fuck_ -

 

bruce attempts to go further and he feels his the head of his cock bumping into the back of his throat. the teen gags and pulls off, gasping for air but not looking at all distressed. jerome stares down at him in wonder as he fists him tightly while regaining his breath. 

 

he can’t believe this is the same bruce he met all those months ago. he can’t believe he’s this fucking lucky. although, bruce seems to have gotten pretty fucking lucky, too. 

 

_two_ hot redheads with nine-inch cocks to worship? what more could the kid want?

 

he stares at jeremiah again as his previous revelation resurfaces to the front of his brain. 

 

“show him how to do it, bruce,” he sits up a little more and combs his fingers through his damp hair, yanking the kid’s head back to look at him. “show him how to do it right for me,” bruce moans and spits obscenely to slick him up an unnecessarry (but _definitely_ appreciated) amount. judging by the little sways of bruce’s head and how often his gaze unfocuses and refocuses, the kid is feeling the alcohol hit. 

 

_what’s with us and being under an influence to fuck?_ he thinks to himself. 

 

he notices out of the corner of his eye that jeremiah is staring at him, so he meets his stare and finds it shocked, mouth hanging open a little. he feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

 

“couldn’t be more obvious,” he breathes out to his twin. “he _does_ make it look fun, doesn’t he?” jeremiah blinks rapidly and seems to struggle to swallow. he openly stares at jeremiah’s mouth and uses his free hand to stroke a thumb across his bottom lip. he feels the puff of hot air leave his twin’s lungs, and he breathes out in a rush, too, when bruce slides back down around his cock. he can barely keep his eyes open at this point, but he doesn’t want to miss anything. he _can’t_. 

 

since he’s less than sober, it is quite hard to keep sitting up like this on his elbows, so he falls back a tad ungracefully. jeremiah shifts next to him, and jerome knows it’s because he isn’t touching himself, _won’t_ touch himself. he should change that. he gives in a little and pushes bruce’s head further down, the kid humming happily, and jerome doesn’t think he’s gonna last much longer. it’s been a while since he’s recieved any kind of blowjob, and not to mention the kid is a fucking _wreck_ down there. 

 

bruce looks up at him as he pulls off slowly and swirls his tongue again, dipping it into his slit, and _shit_ , he’s such a beautiful creature like this. he tilts his head back on the pillow with closed eyes, trying to steady his breathing enough to focus. _focus_. _miah_. he lolls his head over and lifts an arm to latch onto jeremiah’s damp hair this time. his twin blearily looks at him. 

 

“lay down,” he mumbles gruffly. jeremiah does, body facing him and expression clearly showing he’s waiting for further instructions. “you can do anything right now, you know?” he starts as if it’s a real, normal conversation. “bruce is taking my cock like he’s starving - _shit_ , bruce, just like that,” he grits out distractedly, grip tightening as his abdomen clenches. bruce’s mouth feels so good, _too_ good. “what do you want right now?” before jeremiah can think up an answer, he says, “do it.”

 

his twin’s expression falters for a brief second, eyebrows twitching together and the corners of his mouth curving downwards. but it’s gone when jeremiah turns his head away to watch bruce again longingly, and something in jerome aches for him. he hisses when he feels teeth barely scrape up his length, the pain a blessing at this point. he pets the back of jeremiah’s head encouragingly, but is mildly surprised that he stays put. he doesn’t go to bruce, but instead turns back to him with such an open expression of want and need that the breath is knocked out of him. 

 

jeremiah’s eyes leave his to scan his chest, and then his head is lifting and his lips press to the side of his neck hesitantly. jerome chuckles, not knowing what else to do, but his twin must think it’s a good sign. it _is_ a good sign. jeremiah continues to kiss down his neck, breaths hot against his already on-fire skin. he can’t stop his hips from thrusting up a little into bruce’s wet, hot mouth, and when the kid pauses and seems to wait, he thinks he might die. 

 

he’s okay with this. he _wants_ jerome to fuck his mouth. 

 

teeth bite harshly above his collarbone, and heat pools in his stomach at the realization that jeremiah is probably intentionally marking him, and doing it in _that_ spot, the spot bruce had marked him all those nights ago. the spot that made jeremiah’s blood boil in jealousy in the bathroom, though jerome’s not sure who exactly he was jealous of. he’s not sure jeremiah really knows either. maybe both. maybe not. 

 

he thrusts shallowly and somewhat carefully between bruce’s lips, wanting to make sure he is actually okay with it, when he feels jeremiah shift next to him again. it’s distracting. 

 

“miah, i’m gonna tell you again,” he says almost scoldingly. “touch yourself before you fucking _die_ ,” jeremiah whimpers against his throat right under his ear, and the noise makes his cock twitch between bruce’s lips. the teen feels it and starts twisting his hand helpfully while he pauses thrusting to focus better on jeremiah. 

 

“j, i-i _can’t_ , i’m-“ but jerome just slides his hand down and grabs jeremiah’s left hand that is fisted into the sheets between them. 

 

“you can,” he reaussres him as he presses jeremiah’s hand against his own erection. his twin moans brokenly, hips jerking forward into the touch. jerome glances at bruce who is watching hungrily, and involuntarily shivers at the rush of air on his neck again. “c’mon, miah. or i’ll do it for you, and i don’t think you want me tryin’ this right handed,” both jeremiah and bruce make noises at what was supposed to be a joke, and realizes maybe he shouldn’t joke about such offers when they will definitely take him seriously. 

 

he ignores his own flare of lust at the thought and guides bruce back onto his cock again. 

 

jeremiah moans again at the friction, and he knows that he’s going to have to finish what’s been started. but he doesn’t _want_ to, he wasn’t supposed to do anything. it’s supposed to be about jerome. he sees bruce palming himself under his pants that he got undone at some point and considers doing the same, but can’t bring himself to do it. instead, he lets jerome hold his hand over his and occassionally grinds forward into it as bruce swallows further and further down jerome’s length. 

 

he’s hit with humiliation again that jerome noticed his curiosity, his interest in what bruce was doing, because how does he fit that much into his mouth? it has to hurt his jaw, has to be making his eyes water as it most likely hits his gag reflex repeatedly - but bruce doesn’t seem to mind, and he doesn’t seem to mind the taste, either. jeremiah didn’t mind licking the memory of it out of his mouth earlier, so maybe it isn’t so bad -

 

his hips grind forward when bruce suddenly chokes again, and it’s a guilty action, because it’s so _disgusting_ , so _degrading_ , but jerome also groans and tightens his grip in bruce’s hair. he liked it, too. when bruce opens his eyes, they are watering, and it makes him look so sad, so perfect. what’s _wrong_ with him? why is he enjoying this? the sight of bruce being used, being gagged, his tear-filled eyes, the choked noises-

 

“fuck, bruce, i’m close,” jerome groans out, hips still thrusting up every once in a while. this only makes bruce more eager, and jeremiah even gets a rush of excitement. “miah, do me a favor,” he sighs out with closed eyes. he holds his breath and waits, knowing he’s most likely going to do whatever his twin asks him to do. “do anything. touch me, bite me, i don’t care, just- i need _more_ ,” jeremiah freezes, not ready for the desperation in jerome’s tone. he’s never heard him like this before, or seen this expression, and it’s a lot to take in. 

 

jerome moves his hand away from him when he rolls over to be almost on top of him, chest pressing against his shoulder. he glides a hand hesitantly across his chest, settling over his heart again and takes in how rapid it is. he leans down like he did before and kisses above the bruise he purposefully left on his collarbone and moves up his neck. 

 

it doesn’t feel real. 

 

jerome’s breathing has become ragged and he can feel the desperation coming from him, the heat swirling low in his stomach, and he _wants_ to push jerome there, wants to help bruce do this. he wants to be wanted. he wants to be needed. he doesn’t know how to be. 

 

jerome’s right arm between them lifts and swiftly moves around jeremiah to cup the back of his head roughly, holding him in place and conveniently allowing his body to move even more on top of jerome. he keeps his hips back though, not wanting to make things weird (not wanting to make jerome feel weird (because all of this isn’t _already_ weird)) but bruce is sliding a hand up the back of his thigh again so gently and nicely. he thinks it’s saying _i remember you_. it’s comforting. he needed it. 

 

when jerome curses under his breath again, he can tell he actually is close, and bites at his jaw. jerome likes to be bit, he remembers that. what else does he like? 

 

“christ, miah, your stubble fucking _hurts_ ,” jerome grits out, and he feels the way he rolls his body up into bruce. he starts to pull back, an apology ready to spill from his lips, but his twin tightens his grip in his hair and keeps him where he is. “no, no, it’s _good_ , it’s-yeah, fuck, c’mon, bruce,” jerome stutters out, voice rough, and jeremiah makes a weird, impulsive decision to rub his cheek on his twin’s jaw. it’s an odd action, one he certainly never thought he would do, for _any_ reason, but jerome hisses and moves into it. 

 

he can’t imagine how this feels. he’s never had someone with stubble get this close to his face before, but jerome had said it hurt, leading jeremiah to conclude that, overall, his twin enjoys pain during sex. _what level is too much_ , he idly wonders, and while his brain isn’t focused, he missed jerome’s hand leaving his hair, and jumps when it rubs down his back the best it can in their position. he can’t help but tense up. bruce squeezes his thigh and gives a muffled moan. 

 

the hand on his back nudges him forward, but he doesn’t understand, doesn’t get where he’s supposed to be going-

 

bruce pulls at his thigh, and when he looks down at the teen in a confused daze, he’s stroking jerome cock leisurely and biting his lip. bruce nods at him, but he still doesn’t understand at all. he pulls at jeremiah’s thigh again, and then jerome’s leg is shifting over, too. except now bruce pulls up and slides his thigh up and over jerome’s, and the hand on his lower back nudges him forward again and- oh.

 

jeremiah looks at bruce stunned, and all he does is stare back, eyes dark and cheeks red, lips shining with spit. and when bruce licks up the vein on the underside of jerome’s cock, he allows himself to press his erection into the side of jerome’s hip. he shudders, and jerome runs his hand up his back once before bringing it back down to push at him again. bruce slides his hand down to hold onto his calf as he envelopes jerome’s swollen head again. 

 

he tries to breathe but it feels funny, so he buries his face into the side of jerome’s neck. he likes it here. jerome’s hand returns to his hair and he realizes belatedly that he’s rolling his hips into jerome on his own without any guidance. he rolls harder and gasps, a whine slipping out at how good it feels, how surreal this all is. jerome isn’t thrusting up anymore, apparently staying in place for him to grind against, and it makes him feel both guilty and grateful. 

 

jeremiah slides his right hand up to the other side of jerome’s neck, properly hanging on to his twin now, and he wants to cry at the seemingly endless arousal he feels. he wants it to hurry up, to feel normal again, but _this_ \- he doesn’t want _this_ to end. he rubs his stubble against jerome’s jaw again, revelling in the hiss as he cups his jaw on the opposite side. his twin’s head turns slightly towards him, mumbling to bruce that he’s incredibly close, and then he’s resting his forehead against jeremiah’s, and he _can’t take it_ -

 

jerome’s eyes are dark and serious, and this time, jeremiah feels whatever it is fully break inside of him. 

 

he surges forward and kisses him roughly, whining at the new surge of heat flowing through him again, and he just wants the feeling to go. he kisses jerome even harder, the hand in his hair pulling his face impossibly closer in response as he rolls into jerome feverently. bruce curses and squeezes jeremiah’s leg hard enough to probably leave a bruise, and he _moans_. the _pain_ made him moan. _it doesn’t matter_. 

 

what matters is that jerome is kissing him back now, stealing his breath and all brain functionality. jerome licks at his lips and opens his mouth, only to bite down hard on his bottom lip. he stutters out a moan and feels his cock jump, ignoring any thoughts relating to him enjoying pain being bad. he feels good. he feels hot. jerome pulls away from the kiss and curses against his mouth. 

 

“i’m gonna cum,” he says, hand pulling at bruce’s hair again to get him off, most likely so he doesn’t choke more than he has to tonight. but bruce isn’t budging. instead he just lets out a stubborn moan. jeremiah feels jerome give a full-body shudder, and just as bruce finally pulls off, his twin lets go. he feels the climax course through him, and the sight of bruce letting his twin cum on his face almost pushes him over the edge, too. 

 

and then the feeling passes and jerome has untensed underneath him. bruce moans softly and brings jeremiah back enough to reopen his eyes. 

 

he better remember this sight when he’s sober again. 

 

bruce is giving a final lick to jerome’s slit, and there’s white stripes of cum on his right cheek and jaw line. he stares at the beautiful boy and feels curosity reer it’s dangerous head again. bruce meets his gaze, and he realizes he is still palming at himself, so he sits up shakily, lays flat, and pulls him closer by the front of his shirt. 

 

bruce easily crawls up him and whimpers when his erection presses against jeremiah’s, and he knows that he won’t last long, but he doesn’t think bruce will either. jerome is silent next to them as bruce desperstely grinds down against him, and jeremiah can’t resist the urge anymore. 

 

he swipes a finger in the drying substance on bruce’s cheek, and when the teen turns his face, he slips the finger into the brunet’s mouth. the air rushes out of his lungs at the sight and feeling of bruce licking his twin’s cum off his finger while frantically moving his hips against him. he surges up and kisses him, and bruce moans into his mouth and shivers. jeremiah feels the heat in his stomach twist and his cock is aching for release-

 

bruce is suddenly putting two fingers between their lips, and without thinking, he licks them, head going hot when bruce does at the same time, their tongues colliding and, _oh_ , he _tastes_ it, and _fuck_ -

 

with a whine, bruce obviously reaches his climax as his arms shake and body freezes up. jeremiah does, too, clinging desperately to bruce’s hips as the heat finally explodes and leaves him gasping into bruce’s mouth. the teen collapses halfway on top of him and rolls slightly to his right side, a leg and an arm still thrown over him. jeremiah still can’t breathe right, but the feeling is gone, he can go back to normal soon-

 

“jesus fucking _christ_ ,” jerome says, voice laced with both exhaustion and shock. “you two are fucking great, you know that?” jeremiah lets out a breath reminiscent of a laugh, and he feels bruce shaking his head against his neck. he shifts uncomfortably, though, at the mess in his pants still, and bruce does the same. jerome senses it, and jeremiah tries to avoid staring at his naked twin. “i guess i’ll get up and get some fuckin’ pajamas for us,” he grumbles, rolliing over and away. bruce mumbles a _thank you_ into his shoulder softly, and jeremiah thinks he might be close to falling asleep. he nudges him gently. 

 

“hey,” he slurs out. “you should go clean up in the bathroom first. okay?” bruce groans but rolls away, too, and manages to stand up. jerome has pulled on underwear and wobbles over to hand bruce a pile of clothing. bruce stumbles out and goes across the hall to the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. 

 

jeremiah stares at the ceiling in silence for a few moments before he’s brought out of it by jerome flopping onto the bed without any new clothes on except the underwear. he gazes at jeremiah, clearly feeling the alcohol and post-orgasm daze now. “you good?” his twin eventually asks. jeremiah nods at him, and remembers that he broke his own rule. his eyebrows furrow. 

 

“sorry for-for kissing you. i made it uneven again,” he says softly, feeling genuinely bad. he shouldn’t have done it, not without real consent and planning like they talked about. jerome is shaking his head at him dismissively. 

 

“we’re drunk,” he says. “kissing happens, obviously. tonight can just...not count,” jerome concludes, eyes falling shut. jeremiah’s heart sinks. of course he wants to forget about that. why would he want to hang on to such a weird, vile thing? “i still get a free pass, though. ya know, if tonight doesn’t count.” he furrows his eyebrows again at the odd logic. 

 

“j, even if we do count it, you’d still get one, if you really want one,” jeremiah says, his own voice starting to slur. 

 

“i do,” jerome responds quickly, the words not feeling like a lie at all. he sighs and sits up. 

 

“i’m, uh. i’m gonna change,” jeremiah says awkwardly before getting out of the bed. he digs through jerome’s dresser and grabs underwear and sweatpants (and he ignores that he could go over to his own room and get his own underwear, and he tells himself it’s because he’s lazy), and then stumbles to his closet for a t-shirt. jerome has stayed strangely quiet. he should have known it wouldn’t last. 

 

“sorry for makin’ you uncomfy, miah,” jerome slurs from the bed. jeremiah freezes, and he knows he shouldn’t let his twin keep going, but he’s also drunk, so he lets him talk. he wants to listen. “but it’s fun. the whole thing with the free kiss deal. and i don’t mind kissin’ ya. it’s not bad,” jerome shrugs and lolls his head back and forth on the pillow. 

 

“you’re gonna make yourself sick, j,” is all he says before heading towards the door. he hears jerome mock him in a childish voice, and it brings a small smile to his face. he stops rigt before leaving. “i like it, too. and i don’t mind.” he swallows any anxiety that tries to rise at admitting that, because jerome said it first, and exits just as bruce opens the bathroom door. he looks cute in jerome’s too big clothes, and his eyes are droopy and tired. he grins at the teen. 

 

bruce sways towards him and slowly wraps his arms around his shoulders and buries his face into his neck. jeremiah is stunned for a few seconds by the affection, but slowly reciprocates by wrapping his arms around bruce’s back, holding him tightly. 

 

“you make me so happy, miah,” bruce slurs into his skin, and the nickname makes his heart leap in his chest. “i want you to know that. even if you’re unhappy with yourself, you make me happy. and i’ll protect you just like jerome. i’ll be, like, your second knight. okay?” jeremiah is smiling like an idiot listening to bruce ramble, but the words stick with him. 

 

“yeah, okay,” he responds simply. bruce pulls back and looks at him with warm, soft eyes. his heart aches from it. the teen gives him a gentle kiss before walking past him into the bedroom. he dazedly wonders into the bathroom to get changed. 

 

when he comes back, bruce is asleep on one side, curled up almost into a ball and holding jerome’s hand. his twin is in the middle of the bed, which leaves jeremiah to crawl in next to him on the left side. jerome, who is on his back, looks at him with raised eyebrows. he sighs and rolls back over to flick off the lamp by the bed, engulfing the room in uneasy darkness. he curls back in to his twin’s side, and registers a kiss on the top of his hesd before he fades out into sleep. 

 

-

 

he jolts awake to a loud ringing sound, and brushes it off as probably a phone at first. but then his sleep muddled brain finally registers what it was and sits up urgently, body rigid and eyes wide open. jeremiah doesn’t know if it was real, never knows for sure, but he gently starts to shake jerome awake next to him. bruce isn’t in bed anymore. jerome groans and opens his eyes, swatting his hand away. 

 

“what?” he growls out. 

 

“the doorbell,” he croaks out. “i think it was the doorbell,” jerome’s eyes are open now and are full of sleepy confusion. 

 

“you sure?” he asks skeptically. jeremiah understands. no, he thinks to himself. i’m not. “where’s bruce?” jerome finishes the question just as the doorbell rings again, the sound making both of them freeze, the relief of not being crazy short-lived. he stares at jerome as he sits up and is out of the bed in a blur. he watches him go the opposite way down the hallway, and realizes he’s going to the cameras. he stands and speed walks down the hall, but halts when he hears a voice behind him. 

 

“hey, who’s at the door?” bruce asks, and dread fills him. bruce is here. he continues down the hall to his end office and sees jerome pacing. 

 

“it’s that lady, miah, fuck-“ jerome grits out. jeremiah sees lee standing at the door, bouncing slightly like she’s anxious, and she keeps looking off to the side-

 

“bruce’s car,” he whispers in defeat. “she knows he’s here-“

 

“miah, i’m here!” jerome whisper shouts. “and if bruce slips up, shit will fall apart so fucking fast-“ they hear the door push open a little more behind them, both of their heads snapping to the door. bruce is standing there looking tired and concerned. 

 

“what’s going on?” he asks, sound less confused and more suspicious. jerome jumps on it quickly. 

 

“bruce, darling, please tuck yourself away in my bedroom,” his twin says urgently as he rushes towards him and starts leading him away from the cameras. jeremiah stays in place, not sure what to do. what is she doing here? he genuinely doesn’t know. he trusts that jerome has bruce taken care of and unlocks the door, letting her in, and quickly locks it. he takes a deep breath, and tries to steady his shaking hands. breathe, he thinks. she won’t be suspicious of jerome. she has no reason to be. and bruce is in the restroom while he meets her privately because he’s respectful. no other reason. 

 

he heads down the hall and jerome quietly sneaks past him to the back office again, giving him a pat as he goes. he stands in the kitchen and sighs heavily before entering the living room. 

 

lee stands in front of the door with her purse clasped in front of her. she gives him a concerned smile. 

 

“lee,” he greets kindly despite everything else he’s feeling. “i, um. i wasn’t expecting you.” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

 

“i tried texting and calling the phone number you gave me, but i never got an answer,” lee says with worry, dark eyebrows knitted together. he pats his thigh as if it’s in his pocket somehow, and realizes he has no clue where his phone is. “i was worried something was wrong, or that you gave me the wrong number. but,” she opens her purse and starts digging. “i remembered that i wanted to give you this-“

 

“doctor thompkins,” jeremiah’s whole body tenses up, his eyes falling close in defeat at the sound of bruce greeting her, and greeting her by name. 

 

“bruce,” she greets back excitedly. “wow, i-“ jeremiah opens his eyes and notices the way she’s scanning him, taking in his clothes that are definitely not his, and are definitely clothes he has slept in, and the knowing smile has his heart sinking. “good to see you!” jeremiah half turns but doesn’t say anything, turning back to lee and opening his mouth. it takes a few seconds for words to come out. 

 

“is, uh, is this all you needed?” he asks, but knows by the look on her face that this conversation he doesn’t want to have is about to happen. 

 

“i would like to talk more about this,” she shakes the bottle of pills loudly. “privately for a minute.” he opens and closes his mouth a few times before giving in and nodding, heading to the dining room quickly. he hears lee apologize to bruce. 

 

“sorry to be rude-“

 

“no, no, i interrupted,” bruce says kindly. his heart beats rapidly at them interacting alone. maybe he should’ve stayed and waited. “please, go ahead. i’ll wait in the kitchen.” he breathes a sigh of relief and sits just as lee enters. 

 

she sits down across from him silently. it’s horribly awkward. she clears her throat and clasps her hands on the table. 

 

“when i saw bruce’s car, i assumed you were having a meeting about your project,” she says. his stomach flips anxiously. “it looks like he came last night and never left.” she doesn’t sound like she’s scolding him, surprisingly enough to jeremiah. the situation, however, is embarassing nevertheless. 

 

“that-it’s...difficult,” he decides to say, but that isn’t completely true. it’s difficult because there’s so many secrets, not the activities themselves. “can we-what are the sleeping pills?” he asks to change to subject. he acoids eye contact by staring at the bottle. 

 

“they will help you sleep easier and will lessen the chance of dreaming, or, in your case, nightmares,” she explains professionally. he nods. “take one around an hour before you plan to sleep. you will feel it start to kick in. it might keep you asleep a little longer than you are used to, so i reccommend an alarm for a while until your body grows accustomed to it’s new schedule,” jeremiah takes a deep breath as his brain catalogues all the information. “and don’t mix it with alcohol,” lee warns with an accusing finger. he nods in embarrassment. a few seconds pass in silence. he finally says what’s been irritating him. 

 

“he didn’t know i was seeing you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. he hears her take a deep breath and tap her fingernails on the table top. they are long and a bright blue color. he likes them. 

 

“be careful with bruce, alright?” lee says softly. he hesitantly meets her worried gaze, swallowing hard at his own swell of emotion. “i don’t want you to get hurt.” _she cares so much_ , he thinks sadly. _not if she knew_. he nods silently for the hundredth time. she smiles and gathers up her purse, pushing the pills closer for him to take. 

 

“i’ll get out of you and bruce’s hair now,” she says jokingly while standing. jeremiah stands as well. “sorry for the surprise visit. if i had known-“ he shakes his head vigorously at her before she finishes. 

 

“it’s fine. it’s nice to see you regardless,” and the honesty of the statement makes him nervous, not meaning to say something so profound. his tone is exhausted and he’s sure it sounds as if he has a lot to talk about next time they meet. it’s nothing he can tell her, not really. “i’ll walk you to the door,” he offers gently, swiftly moving past her and into the living room. 

 

he nods at her, and hesitantly holds out his hand for her to shake. she does so with a wide smile. 

 

“have a good rest of your day, jeremiah,” lee says. he sighs at how smoothly this went. 

 

“you, too,” he replies, letting her hand slip away as he heads to the back room where jerome is to unlock the door. he doesn’t say anything to bruce as he passes. 

 

he stares from his spot at the island as jeremiah walks through the kitchen without so much as a glance in his direction. he stands up and peeks around the doorway, seeing doctor thompkins is waiting. 

 

“sorry to see you under such awkward circumstances,” he starts gently so he doesn’t startle her. she ducks her head with a grin. “i hope it isn’t rude of me to ask that this stays between us,” he smiles at her pleadingly, knowing that this _isn’t_ where he said he was going to be last night or this morning. he can’t afford being caught. her eyes light up as she catches what he means. 

 

“sure, of course, bruce,” she agrees lightly. his shoulders relax. “i was young once, too.” he smiles thankfully. 

 

“well, i should go back and continue with the coffee making process,” he says, already backing away. “i’d completely make it, but i don’t really know how they like it, so,” he shrugs with a grin, but it falters when doctor thompkins tilts her head, blinking with a confused smile. before anything more can be said, the alarm signals the door has been unlocked. she jumps a little and laughs. 

 

“i’ll see you later, bruce,” she says, seeming put off still. he has no time to question her about anything, though, due to jeremiah’s rule. she’s out the door in seconds, and he waits until the alarm signals that it’s locked again before heading back into the kitchen. 

 

so many questions flood his brain. 

 

how long has jeremiah been seeing doctor thompkins? why hadn’t he told him he was seeing a doctor at all? she had brought sleeping pills with her, and he supposes he should have guessed he had a doctor since jerome mentioned medication to him. 

 

_lessen the chance of dreaming_ , she had said to him. _or, in your case, nightmares._ so jeremiah is seeking some help for his night terrors? that’s something bruce can understand. maybe jerome is wrong about his twin hiding something from him. maybe jeremiah isn’t trying to be sneaky about anything. 

 

he feels slight guilt for eavesdropping on their discussion, but jeremiah hadn’t really said much. jerome had asked him to practically _spy_ on him - so he did. he’s not sure it’s exactly what he had in mind, but it’s something. 

 

doctor thompkins’ confused stare still causes an itch under his skin. what was so confusing about mentioning coffee? maybe jeremiah had told her he hated coffee, and he just exposed a lie. he’s not sure that’s the case, though. 

 

jerome enters the kitchen first. 

 

“i told you to stay in my bedroom, ya fucking’ brat," he says tiredly, stomping over to the coffee machine. bruce blinks at the sudden tidal wave of jerome. 

 

“i didn’t realize-“ he starts to say, but doesn’t get the chance to finish. 

 

“yeah, you should’ve listened,” he says over him. “miah’s all distraught cause you know his secret. it’s hard enough for him to admit he has problems to you. you think he was ready to have his secret therapist exposed?” and okay, bruce really hadn’t thought about it that way. she isn’t just a doctor to him - she’s his _therapist_. 

 

“there’s no shame in needing help-“

 

“that’s not the point here,” jerome sighs out. “he wasn’t ready to to tell you about this,” he pours two mugs of coffee. bruce narrows his eyes. 

 

“and yet you want me to _spy_ on him for you,” jerome shushes him, but bruce keeps going. “how is _that_ respecting his privacy? due to my _spying_ , i learned something,” jerome rolls his eyes before reluctantly nodding for him to continue. “he’s going to start taking sleeping pills for his nightmares. jerome, i don’t think he’s trying to pull anything. i think he’s genuinely seeking help here,” jerome raises an eyebrow skeptically, and bruce raises one of his own. the man caves, turning away to get creamer out of the fridge. 

 

“we’ll see. i’ll believe it when he starts taking them,” jerome grumbles, pouring too much creamer in. bruce is disgusted when he doesn’t bother to stir it before taking a sip. “by the way, you need to drop me off at my car on your way home, playboy,” with that, the man scoops up the mug of black coffee, too, and heads down the hall. bruce wonders if maybe he really did cross a huge line by introducing himself before jeremiah was ready. he hopes they can get passed this. 

 

bruce pours himself a mug of coffee and adds a bit of creamer, searching for a spoon to stir it with. 

 

-

 

“i know i shouldn’t be telling you this, but i have to tell _somebody_ ,” lee says desperately to her fiancè as she takes off her coat and flings it on the couch. he grins at her where he’s sitting and gives a laugh when she flops down next to him. 

 

“as long as you aren’t breaking confidentiality, i’m all ears for you,” jim says sweetly. she rubs his arm before thinking of her careful phrasing. 

 

“the patient that i make special trips to go see works for wayne enterprises, right?” jim hums, remembering the tid-bit of information she shared with him. “i went over there to give them sleeping pills, and guess who’s car was out front,” she pauses, but jim just furrows his eyebrows. “bruce’s!” he blinks at her, not seeming to understand her excitement. “jim, he stayed there _overnight_ ,” she prompts, and when his eyebrows finally raise to his hairline in shock, she giggles. 

 

“wait, but this patient works for him,” he says skeptically. “isn’t that a bit, i don't know, _sketchy_?” she groans and rolls her eyes. 

 

“jim, my patient with agoraphobia has a job and possibly a relationship now. don’t ruin the good news,” she pouts at him, and his skeptical expression goes away. lee smiles again."and don't forget that we work together," he grins tightly at her valid point, leaning forward to grab his beer off the table.  


 

“guess that means you’re doing your job right,” he says gruffly. her heart flutters and she leans forward and kisses his cheek."i'm struggling with mine, though. can't find the guys who robbed that jewelry store the other day. they just...vanished." he takes a swig of beer and she hums sadly for him,  


 

"something will turn up," she says reassuringly. "criminals always slip up eventually." lee stands up and heads to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, smiling to herself as she remembers jim's small compliment.

 

she’s really helping one of her toughest patients. her mind drifts back to bruce and the strange thing he said. _i don’t really know how they like it_ , he had said. ' _they'_ struck a nerve, but it was probably a slip up of words. who else would be there? lee dismisses the uneasiness and fills her glass half full. jeremiah and bruce were the only one’s there this morning. but even has she thinks it, she starts to doubt herself. they were alone. 

 

right?

 

\- - -

 

_ though i can't wait forever, _

_ someday i'll be dead and gone. _

_ and i won't be forgiven, _

_ for what i've done. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe ok  
> how was ... the smut ? i tried to be more explicit this time but not over the top with it. was it hot? cold? good writing? bad writing? do i need to work on anything? be honest (but kindly!)  
> and what did yall think of that ending??? (-:  
> leave a comment, i love reading ur opinions and predictions!!!  
> i love u guys, until next chapter! 💚💚💚
> 
> also - i reread QueerQuaking’s fic several times before writing my smut so if you want some quality wayleska smut, i recommend reading their fic called “all for you” its - yeah,, its incredible 🙃


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